The Spy Game
by kalee60
Summary: Hermione knows a spy's life is never going to be easy, especially when you're framed for a crime you didn't commit. Now, she finds herself on the run with the last person on earth she ever wanted to see again, Draco Malfoy.
1. Chapter 1

"Is she dead…I mean _completely_ dead?"

Hermione was so lost in thought; Camille's soft query startled her. Not wanting to, but having little choice; she looked back down at the horrifically ruptured body in question. A sense of Déjà vu settled deep in the pit of her stomach; making her uneasy. Ignoring her instincts like a first year novice, she pushed them aside - foolishly. This was not the same as then, it _couldn't_ be.

Involuntary, her nose wrinkled as the sharp tang of blood invaded her already tired senses. She tried once again to avert her gaze from the gross parody which mimicked a body, but like a moth to the flame it was futile. The body demanded her full attention. Hermione let her eyes follow the grisly path, which ended at what remained of the face. Bile rose to the back of her throat. It wasn't so much the blood she had issues with; it was the lack of body it had come from.

Fatigue threatened to creep up again; she had now been awake for more days than she thought humanly possible. Feeling too tired, and a tad cranky, Hermione was in no way prepared for what was in-front of her. Not that you could ever prepare yourself for a ripped body strewn across a kitchen floor. And if you could, she didn't want that job - ever. Somehow, Hermione had a feeling today wasn't going to improve either. Apparently life thought she needed another challenge, and threw her the big one.

The victim was a witch she knew well; had worked with on occasion. This fact only made the whole situation seem unbelievable, like a bad dream. Hermione knew instantly Isabelle's life-spark had winked out of existence. No question about it. There wasn't a spell strong enough in the universe to reform such a mutilated body.

Looking down at her hands, she could literally see them trembling. Clasping them together, she attempted to ease the shaky movement. In no way did she want to alert Camille to the fact this scared her. Okay, she was more than scared, but losing it was not an option. Hermione had a shredded operative lying in-front of her, and couldn't fathom who in their right mind would kill a witch who was under the protection of the Ministry. _Maybe a half-baked lunatic, that's who_.

"Hermione?"

A yelp of surprise almost managed to escape, but she swallowed it quickly. Glancing up at Camille, she saw her partner was still waiting for a response. Masking the apprehension she was certain was plastered over her face, Hermione took a deep breath in. The last thing she needed was for Camille to panic; her eyes were already too wide as it was.

"She is isn't she?" Camille's voice was edging up a notch.

Hermione nodded curtly, not trusting her voice just yet; and looked back down at what was left of Isabelle. She didn't deserve this. Nobody did. Camille paced restlessly behind her, the clack of boots loud on the linoleum. Her agitation and fear was palpable, and Hermione found it hard not to let it get to her. Already her blood pressure was skyrocketing. But she knew she couldn't afford to break down, not yet anyway. Even though pulling out her hair and rambling seemed like good options at the moment.

Isabelle's entire torso had been ripped apart. Her insides seeped onto the royal blue floor making a sick mosaic portrait. She was missing her right leg, and Hermione had a horrendous suspicion the pile of mush near the fridge might contain femur bones. Swallowing tightly, she tried to piece together anything that would make sense. The situation was familiar in a way she could not quite grasp. Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she realised Camille was waiting for her to speak. She still didn't know what to say; which was a first. Hermione always had some form of input, welcomed or not. It just went to show her how affected she really was. Finally she looked away, and stood up; finding her legs shaking. From the heat or the shock, she wasn't sure.

The room was stifling; it was over 40 degrees outside, and the air conditioner had obviously blown a fuse. No sound came from the rickety old machine which hung precariously from the window. Hermione would have welcomed any form of moving air at the moment; the heat and blood made her queasy. Curls which had escaped her bun, hugged the back of her neck like a wet t-shirt. It was damn frustrating. Hermione's hands itched to wipe the slick perspiration from the base of her head. Yet, she knew it was pointless; it would be wet again in a second. She had to wonder why this was her main concern at the moment. Stress made for strange thought patterns.

Hermione was currently standing in one of The Firm's half-way houses - in Dubai. It was a safe place for operatives to bunk down when on a mission. You could not Apparate in, or out. It was only accessible by a secret underground railway; made especially for The Firm and its employees. This made it perfect to disappear and leave no magical trail. The houses were impenetrable - supposedly. Hermione hadn't stayed in this one for a few months, but knew she would never set foot in it again. Camille had stopped pacing, and now stood before Hermione.

"What do you think happened here? God, I'm going to be sick. This _is_ sick – beyond sick."

Hermione watched as Camille turned six different shades of white. She knew by her own quivering stomach, that her colour wasn't looking too healthy either. The thing was; she had no idea what had happened here. There was not one spell in her extensive repertoire which could determine what had caused Isabelle to be ripped apart. It was some poor medi-witch's challenge to do that. Even then, they probably couldn't help do anything but find her missing body parts.

"Crap, I don't know Cam. This is a safe house, no-one outside of The Firm is supposed to know about it." Hermione finally wiped the sweat from her neck in frustration; it was a small relief in an otherwise dire situation. "It just doesn't make sense killing Isabelle. Whoever did it was either insane - or has a death wish once Franklin finds out."

Hermione didn't want to think about how their superior would act. He was unstable on a good day - usually. You never knew how he would react to bad news. Hermione remembered once when they'd run out of coffee; he'd gone ballistic and cursed the kettle to sing 'I'm sorry' all day; it was more than annoying.

She had been working at The Firm for about seven years now. She'd turned down countless Ministry office jobs, so she could live the adrenaline life which came with being an operative with Britain's top wizarding spy network. The entire company was made up of magic folk. Witches, Wizards, Centaurs, Giants, even a handful of dissatisfied Goblins managed to cross over from Gringotts. You name it, they worked at The Firm. Even Squibs were offered office positions, yet no field work; you needed a certain amount of magical skill to do the job. Hermione had been paired up with Camille about four years ago, becoming as close to her as she had with Ron and Harry. Adrenaline and danger made an excellent bonding activity.

Camille was a witch a few years younger than her; a tiny gorgeous ethereal being, with a blonde pixie cut to make her entire appearance even more elf-like. Although her size might belie her strength, she'd helped Hermione out of more scrapes than she could count.

At least _one_ of her partners was trustworthy. Hermione frowned in anger at allowing herself to think about the past. _Now was not the time to tackle those demons._

They were here at the safe-house to meet Isabelle and Marcus, and pick up a top secret brief. It was a little unusual for two field operatives like Camille and Hermione to do a pick up, but it wasn't unheard of either. Hermione's brain stopped whizzing for a second as she honed in on one errant thought.

"Marcus…."

"What?" Camille frowned at Hermione's panicked tone.

"Oh crap…Marcus. He was meant to be here with Isabelle."

Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth. Oh God, what if the attacker was still here? Wide eyed, she caught Camille's blue gaze, neither daring to breathe. Every instinct inside of her was screaming to flee. Go, and not look back. The word 'run' physically pulsed through her body. Exhaling slowly, Hermione tried to get herself back in the game. She'd seen dead bodies before; you couldn't be in this profession and not see them. But this was the first time she had _really_ known the victims. Camille's eyes flicked behind her then back to her face. Tilting her head to the right, she mouthed the word 'door'.

Nodding in understanding; Hermione slowly lifted the back of her shirt, and un-holstered her wand. Camille was one step ahead, already having hers pointed straight ahead. They were completely underprepared, overexposed and didn't have nearly as much information as they should. This could not end well.

Making a 'shush' motion with a finger to her lips, Hermione pointed to the left side of the door. Camille dipped her head in agreement and slowly made her way over. Stepping over a broken chair and avoiding another pool of blood, Hermione followed Camille's slender form.

Her heart was beating erratically, as if trying to jump out of her chest. Never had she been exposed to such a feeling of dread in her line of work. Never had she believed a violent killer to be hiding in the next room either. She was hoping to rip the door open to find a normal neat bedroom with nothing amiss. Somehow she didn't believe her wish was going to come true. She probably needed to work up more brownie points somewhere for that to happen.

A crash bellowed from the room, followed closely by splintering glass. Instinct kicked in; there was no thought about consequence. All Hermione could visualize was Marcus needing their help. There was no room for doubts on _if_ he was alive. She slammed through the door with Camille hot on her heels. Camille blasted off three stun-shots immediately. Hermione caught a glimpse of a black shadow fleeing out the shattered window, but then her eyes fixed firmly on Marcus's limp body.

"Cam, give chase" Hesitating slightly, she added "Be careful."

Camille smiled at Hermione's words; then was off like a shot. Hermione heard footfalls echo a moment before the front door slammed. She couldn't let herself worry about Camille; she was a good operative. She was nothing like her last partner, _she_ wouldn't disappear by choice. Yet, the pang of concern didn't leave straight away. Looking down at Marcus, she noticed his pallor was sickly grey, which didn't bode well. He was barely breathing.

"Marcus, can you hear me?" Her voice echoed in the small room. He didn't look good, and the congealed blood and gore made her mind run into overdrive; who could have done this? The fleeing shadow?

Hermione ripped a sheet off the nearest bed and fell next to Marcus's broken body. She wanted to staunch the blood flow but his body was hacked apart. She couldn't hold the sheet everywhere it needed to be. _Ten_ sheets and a fifty foot roll of gauze wouldn't have been enough. Helplessness welled up and threatened to break out. A wet trail made its solitary path from her eye to chin. She'd worked with Marcus since the beginning, _hell_, he'd practically trained her. Sure, they disliked each other at Hogwarts, but that was all water under the bridge years ago. The war made everyone grow up quickly; petty quarrels were forgotten while the wizarding community was rebuilt. But this wasn't supposed to happen. Not to Marcus, he was almost an institution of The Firm.

"Hermione, is that you?" His voice cracked and gurgled.

She gasped and held him closer; not even thinking it would be causing him more pain.

"I'm here Marcus. Shhh. It will be alright. It's not as bad as it looks." The lie slipped from her mouth without conscious thought.

"Liar." Marcus chuckled, which caused a coughing fit. When he'd settled down, a new trace of crimson trailed from the corner of his mouth. Hermione stroked his dark hair away from his forehead. She was hard pressed keeping the tears at bay, but she had a job to do.

"What happened? Who did this?" Hermione's voice was panicky; taking a deep breath she tried to calm her racing heart. It didn't work as well as she'd hoped.

"_What_ did this, you mean? It wasn't anything I'd ever seen before." His crackling voice fell silent, so silent she became scared and placed a hand in front of his mouth. Feeling slight warmth she let herself relax slightly.

"I'm not dead yet, Granger."

She smiled down at him, tears clouding her vision. There were only two operative's to have called her by her last name – both ex-Slytherin. The familiarity of it made her feel better. Hermione knew he wouldn't make it, knew it in her heart. But, if she could do anything, it would be to stay here and make sure Marcus wasn't alone when he died.

Hermione's brain kept whirling; finding it extremely disturbing Marcus didn't recognize the creature that did this to him. He'd been an operative for over 10 years and had seen it all. Hermione couldn't even imagine what new threat could be out there. He coughed again, bringing Hermione out of her thoughts.

"It will take more than this to kill you. What did it want?" Hermione hated making him talk when it so obviously pained him. But she needed answers. Tapping her back pocket, she felt for the familiar outline of her phone. Alarm fled through her when she didn't feel the comforting shape. She then remembered it was still on the train being charged. _Damn it to hell_. She needed back up, and she needed it now. Muggle phones were the only form of communication from a safe house, the wards didn't allow outside contact via magic. A blessing and now a curse, Hermione realised. Why didn't she think to get Cam to ring for a medic?

"Hey, I'm too far gone; there's no helping me now." Marcus's eyes held hers for the longest time. Hermione looked away first, not knowing how to deal with death on her lap. His words rang true, and she hated that she could do nothing to ease his passing. He shuddered in her arms, and it took all her courage to look back down at him.

"It was after the brief. Listen carefully, Hermione. The brief is not what it seems. It's been transformed magically to look like a file…but it's not…." Coughs and splutters erupted in his throat, making it hard to hear what he was saying.

It took Hermione a moment to realise what he was talking about; the file Camille and her were here to pick up. Marcus went quiet again. Hermione wanted to scream, it wasn't fair that he should be lying here, dying. Selfishly, Hermione thought it unfair she had to bear witness to it. She didn't deal with emotions very well – not anymore.

"God damn it, Granger - focus. It didn't get what it was after. The brief is in the safe. I had just enough time to hide it. Isabelle gave me that time." Marcus winced in pain but it wasn't physical discomfort which caused this. He'd worked with Isabelle since first starting with The Firm. They'd been a team for over a decade. "Get it back to HQ. This creature was like nothing I'd ever seen. It was solid, yet mist at the same time. It hit like a truck and had talons like a hawk. Hermione, be careful. It might not be gone. We…. need….. forces….. Malfoy…"

Marcus ended on a whisper which gurgled into nothingness. Hermione stiffened at his last words, Malfoy, what the hell did he mean? Pushing the unsettling feeling away in her stomach; Hermione let her tears fall, hard and silent. Never had anyone died in her arms before; it was a process she never wanted to repeat.

A whisper of breath brushed across Hermione's cheek, startled she looked up. Nothing was in the room with her. Her nerves were thoroughly rattled, and thoughts of horror whipped through her mind like a tornado. Slowly she laid Marcus on the floor.

Standing up, Hermione made her way to the built-in robes which lined one wall of the room and opened them. They squeaked in protest at first, but she wasn't concerned about the noise. Using a wand-less spell, Hermione made a small hole appear in the floor. It wasn't a particularly original hiding spot, or even a good one, but it was a means to an end.

Pulling out the A4 sized file, she minimized it to the size of a stamp and placed it in her back pocket. She would ask Camille whether they should try and transform it back into the original item later. Unfortunately, Marcus never got to tell her what its true form was. Then the thought barreled through her head.

"Oh my God - Camille."

Leaping to her feet, Hermione took one step before slipping on the blood which ran from Marcus's immobile body. Before she could react, she skidded straight into the door frame, hitting it hard. Grabbing her now throbbing forearm she swore out loud and continued into the other room tripping and sliding in her haste to get outside to Camille.

"Hermione!"

Camille yelling her name spurred Hermione into action. Sprinting for the door, she couldn't help but wonder if she was too late. A wall of heat smacked into her as she burst outside. The warmth was like molasses and covered every inch of her. Squinting into the sun, Hermione frantically looked every way for some sign that Camille was nearby. Her voice resonated over and over in Hermione's mind. Camille sounded scared. Hermione felt her stomach drop in fear, Marcus's and Isabelle's mangled bodies floated in her vision. She would not let that happen to Camille. The thought of it left her nauseous; and coupled with the fear in her heart, she felt like a wobbling piece of jelly. No substance at all to hold her upright.

Dust bit into her skin as an impromptu wind storm kicked up. All that was out here was the house and barren desert. The Firm chose this sight because of its locale, and it was right above the train system they used to travel over England and most of the rest of the world. Hermione swore as sand caught in her eyes and the world blurred for a moment. She had to lift her game and take control.

There was no movement outside to Hermione's incredulity. No cars, helicopters or any other vehicle of any kind. Whipping around she looked at the ramshackle house, impatiently holding wisps of hair away from her eyes. It was an old colonial style which would have housed the family of a farmer. The outside needed a good coat of paint and the guttering was falling in places. But the inside had state of the art security, a new kitchen, and a laboratory. Apart from a small garden shed behind the house, nothing else was visible. About a hundred meters to the left was a shack. This housed the stairs which led to the underground train platform. It was the only place Camille could have been taken. There was no other shelter for miles, and Hermione would have seen the dust trail of a vehicle.

Hermione had only just begun to pick up her pace, when out of nowhere somebody slammed into her. She hit the ground hard, getting a mouthful of dirt in the process. Her fighting spirit kicked in, and she lashed out at the heavy person who was crushing her. Her left arm was pinned awkwardly underneath her. But she managed to force her right arm back, so her elbow would connect with something - hopefully.

It did. She heard a masculine grunt of surprise before being wrenched around onto her back. Hermione found herself looking up into the most mesmerizing eyes she'd ever seen. They were so gray she could almost see herself reflected in them. They also looked extremely pissed off. On the heels of her initial appraisal, was the thought that the eyes were very familiar – too familiar.

"Malfoy." Hermione hissed in disbelief.

"Granger." Draco's matter of fact response sounded gravelly, as if he hadn't spoken for some time. He coughed lightly, but said no more, which infuriated Hermione to no end.

"What the blazes are you doing here? No, actually don't answer that, you've been AWOL for six years now, running from the law. It's only fitting you're here now, kidnapping my partner and killing operatives." Hermione missed Draco's look of shock at her words, since she was trying to buck him off again.

"Dead operatives….who?"

Hermione ignored him and continued to struggle. His hands tightened on her until she yelped in pain. Looking back to his face she saw his eyes burning in anger. Hermione realised it might not be such a smart idea to bait the bad guy. Because that's all Draco Malfoy could be – the bad guy.

"As if you don't know." She spat at him.

Draco shut his eyes for a moment, barely concealing his furious impatience.

"Fine, Granger, you always did have the amazing ability of jumping to the wrong conclusions. One trait I can say I haven't missed. Just tell me that Blaise wasn't one of them." Draco's voice almost broke on his former friends' name.

Hermione stopped her wriggling for a second. Was he serious? No of course not, he was a Malfoy, and he'd proven just how much he could lie. She'd trusted him once, but never again. Draco still had one of her arms in his vice like grip, and as much as she pulled, she couldn't release it. It felt as if her shoulder would pop from its socket if he put any more pressure on it. Hermione winced against the pain and gritted her teeth as she pulled her other arm out from between their bodies.

She managed to get in one punch, landing it on his side under his ribs. He hissed and blinked once slowly; scowling down at her. It didn't affect him in the slightest, and she had sore knuckles for her trouble.

"You know he wasn't. Get off of me you traitor. What the hell have you done with Camille?" Hermione found her voice wavering. She needed to get Malfoy to move so she could find Camille. So far he was the only likely suspect, and it made her anxious. After everything, she honestly believed he was innocent, apparently he wasn't.

He said nothing but just held down the offending arm. Hermione hated being helpless, especially when something important was at stake. She also hated that this was as close as she'd been to a man for as long as she could remember. She'd forgotten how attractive she'd once found Draco. Ignoring how good his weight felt on her was pointless, so she enjoyed it for a moment; even though she loathed the prat.

Looking at him now, she saw his hair was longer than she remembered; it skimmed his collar, but was still almost white blonde. It brought back memories of a very small unrequited crush on her behalf, thank god she'd never let him know about it. _Of course_ he had to be the one person who'd betrayed her and left her to face the tribunal - alone._ Oh yeah_, he was also probably a killer. Hermione had noticed though, that he wasn't actually trying to hurt her. All he had done so far was hold her immobile. Why, she could only guess.

"Don't fight me on this, Hermione. I didn't take your partner, I know you won't believe me, but I'm here to help. You're in danger." Hermione went limp in surprise. Who did he think he was? Be damned if she wasn't going to fight him, either. One thing she knew emphatically was; that to trust a Malfoy was to be a fool. She let out a sharp bark of laughter.

"In what universe, in what lifetime could I ever put my trust in you, Malfoy? Remember what happened last time…Oh of course you wouldn't, you disappeared just when I needed you the most. Camille is the partner I should have had the entire time, not you. I should never have been paired off with you." The past threatened to take over Hermione's emotions. But, she held onto her anger and used it to clear her head.

Malfoy was still staring down at her, his grip loosened slightly. A sentiment she couldn't quiet pinpoint flashed through his eyes before they hardened again.

"I had reasons, good reasons which you ignored. I'm not sure what shit you were told, Granger. But believe me, I would never have willingly betrayed my partner – you. Listen to me for once, this is bigger than you or me. Doesn't this entire situation stink of Romania?"

Hermione frowned, and it all fell into place - the déjà vu, the style of murder. She had seen it all before, six years ago in Romania – with her partner, Malfoy. They had worked together for almost a year, every mission a success, every criteria met with precision never seen before. It came from pairing a bookworm with a 'fly by the seat of your pants' kind of guy. They worked well together too, their years of sniping at each other in Hogwarts long gone. In its place came biting sarcasm and extremely veiled flirting, until Malfoy was accused of killing three operatives and being the mastermind behind a vicious plot to kill all personal who worked within The Firm. He'd told Hermione to trust him, that he'd be back to clear his name and he was innocent. She had let him go, never in a million years thinking he would disappear off the grid for six years, becoming one of the most wanted wizards in the world.

"Yes it does, and what a coincidence that you're here as well. If you're trying to make an argument of your innocence, it's not working."

Hermione ignored the taut muscles that pushed her into the sand and kicked her knee up. She hated doing this to any man but it hit the right spot. He immediately rolled off her, curling into a ball groaning.

"For what it's worth, I'm not sorry. Don't follow me, Malfoy. I have a partner to find, one which _I'd_ never let down."

She didn't know whether she was being ridiculously naïve. Maybe he was the killer, but she had a gut feeling he wasn't. Surely on the odd occasion her gut feeling had to be correct. Then why did it want to go find out whether he was okay?

"Stop and focus, Hermione. You don't have the time to worry about why Malfoys turned up. Now of all times." Her voice was strong, but her mind continued to tick over what he'd said. Of course she was in danger, any moron would know that. She also squashed the uncomfortable bubble of nervous attraction she'd felt for him. Malfoy had always been too good looking, too conceited and too arrogant. Vice's she thought she'd put a lid on six years ago. So how could two minutes pushed into the sand with him jumble her long ignored passion?

She made a bee line for the shed, once again pulling her wand from its holster. Coming to a skidding stop at the door, Hermione saw scuff marks in the sand. She couldn't tell who's they were, but she was betting Cam's would be the pointy toed boots. Listening at the door for a second she couldn't make out any noise. Hermione clicked the door open slowly, and slipped into the shack. If it was hot outside, it was scalding in the small tin space. Sweat began to fall off her in rivulets. It was disgusting; especially when combined with the sand plastered against her body. She headed straight for the steps, taking them two at a time to get to the bottom.

The distinct rumbling of a train approaching made Hermione quicken her pace. The dank smell of earth followed her as she descended deeper into the tunnel. This particular outpost didn't have the modern day concrete lining like the city terminals. Out here in the middle of nowhere they were lucky to have haphazard steps. The small lights which lined the walls flickered slightly as the nearing train interfered with the electricity. Hermione upped her tempo.

She burst into the main area a minute or so before the train arrived. Disappointment filled her stomach when she saw no figures standing on the platform. The train she arrived in, was long gone – with it, her phone. Spinning around, she looked at the few small niches in the walls, yet there was no movement. Where the hell were they, on the missing train?

Suddenly, the light of the next train lit up the small area. Hermione's eyes widened in shock, as she found herself not as alone on the platform as she first thought.

* * *

A/N: Hey, just thought I'd pop in a little note to say thanks for reading! . This new story will be in ten chapters; and I hope to post every five or six days. I really, really hope you enjoy my new offering, I've spent ages deliberating on posting or not, but here we go! It's a little different, due to being longer – it gets a little angst going on later, but hopefully there's enough sexual tension to get you through (and eventual smut!) Oh hell, we all need a little sexual tension! Thanks again for reading. Oh, I haven't been able to find a beta, so all mistakes are mine – and I'm sure there are loads! - be gentle!


	2. Chapter 2

A figure barreled out of the semi-darkness like a bull charging at a red flag. Hermione had a split second of fear before they grabbed her around the waist, dragging her towards a niche. _God damn it_, when would she catch a break? It had to be Malfoy, who else? How he managed to recover so quickly was beyond her. Hermione thought she had kneed him pretty good. Well, he _was_ an arrogant prat, so he was probably used to being hit in the Malfoy royal junk. But, what was he doing dragging her into an invisible hollow? Maybe she didn't _want_ to know, since her knee and his boys had been recently acquainted. She could feel how tense he was, he was pissed at her – _oh goody_.

"You bloody imbecile. Let. Me. Go." She snarled through clenched teeth, he wasn't the only angry one.

Malfoy chuckled low in his throat which made her stomach clench. Her reaction to him infuriated her even more. Grinning she kicked out, connecting with his shin. He grunted in annoyance and squeezed tighter, Hermione gasped for air.

"If you won't let me go, then at least let me bloody breathe."

"If I let you breathe, you have to be quiet. Though I know it's a known impossibility where you're concerned." His voice was quiet and too close to her ear for comfort. Hermione nodded sharply. She didn't want to obey him, but if it meant he wouldn't hold her so close - she would do almost anything. His grip loosened.

"Better, and don't pretend to know me, Malfoy. You gave up the right many moons ago. What the bloody hell are you doing here?" Hermione ended on a hiss.

He said nothing in response; just shushed her. Affronted, she squirmed around until she could face him. Trying desperately to ignore his taut chest, she looked up towards his face. She had also forgotten how much taller than her he was. Hermione's other vice was tall men who wore expensive cologne. _Oh Merlin_, he smelt nice - too nice. Hermione tried breathing through her mouth, whilst ignoring the warm arm which was still wrapped around her waist. It was proving harder than she'd thought.

It was at that moment the train hurtled into the tunnel. Light from the engine cascaded into the area - seeking out hidden crevices. The niche Malfoy had concealed them in was the only one to stay partially hidden. Yet, Hermione could still see the platform quite well.

"Malfoy…answer me…" His hand clamped down over her mouth. She let out an irritated breath through her nose.

The train came to a halt with a screech of steel which made her flinch. The doors opened quickly, and heavy footfalls echoed around the platform. Hermione saw a few familiar faces from The Firm and tried to remove herself from Malfoys grip. He only held on more furiously.

One man stood out from the rest. Timothy Pearson, The Firms proverbial muscle. He was dressed in full combat gear and talked rapidly into a walkie-talkie. He made the incredible hulk appear puny. Hermione only heard a few mumbled words. It sounded like they were here to capture people in relation to the murders of Isabelle and Marcus. But who? Malfoy – maybe?

Hermione had the unnatural urge to bite Malfoy's finger and yell out. He must have sensed it, because he quickly removed his hand. His eyes met hers - immediately a silent warning issued with just that look. Draco's brow furrowed, and before she could decide on a course of action; he moved.

She watched in fascinated horror as his head descended towards hers. He was going to bloody well kiss her. She didn't even have time for a strangled gasp as his lips met hers. Of course, Hermione knew Draco was only doing this to keep her quiet. Obviously he didn't want Timothy to see them. Yet, in a deep recess of her mind, she realised she had waited for this kiss for seven years. But, her practical side won out and she began to struggle against him. How dare he think he could shut her up with a mere kiss – even one which was making her knees buckle?

All coherent thoughts on Malfoys ridiculous behavior fled as his tongue gently traced the seam of her mouth. Hermione moaned softly, then immediately regretted her small concession. He smiled against her lips and without further ado, penetrated her warmth. She scrambled for a thought, any thought – any one which had nothing to do with Draco's hot tongue or the tingles racing through her body. She came up blank.

Involuntary she pressed herself into him, barely noticing when her traitorous hand snarled itself in the soft hair at the base of his neck. He groaned in the back of his throat, and desire tore straight to her groin. Tugging his hair so his lips lifted slightly, she bit and held his bottom lip with her teeth. He shuddered against her as she pushed him even further into the niche. His scalding kisses egged her on beyond all reasoning and she lifted a leg, hooking it over his hip.

"Merlin, Granger. You're even hotter than I imagined."

Like a bucket of cold water, these words stopped her dead. Jumping away from him, she slapped his face in pure reflex. Thankfully, the sound was drowned out by the train engine revving. Hermione ignored Draco's thunderous face and berated herself heavily. _What the hell was she thinking?_ She hated him, he was the enemy, he was a stuck up chauvinistic pig that'd left her for dead. He was also probably using her for his own means, and his lips were utterly delectable. _No, no they weren't - stupid brain. _When Hermione came back into herself, she found she was pushing her wand into Draco's throat.

"If you ever, _ever_ try anything like that again," Hermione moved the wand from his pulse point and pressed it against his crotch. "I will hex what you value most, into oblivion. Do you understand?"

Infuriatingly, Draco appeared non-plussed by her outburst. He lifted a corner of his mouth into a half smile – which didn't affect her in any way – and grasped her wand, removing it from its delicate position.

"Oh, Granger. You have no idea what I value most." His smile was unsettling to say the least; the train revved again. "We have to go – now." Draco was looking over her shoulder at the train which was starting to slowly move away from the now deserted platform.

"I'm not going anywhere with you. The Firm has sent reinforcements; I have to go help them find Camille. Unless you want to tell me where you stashed her?"

Draco sighed in annoyance. "At some point today you will come to the momentous realisation that every thing you thought you knew – is an utter fabrication. This is the last time I will say it; and you know how I hate to repeat myself – I don't have Camille, and I didn't kill any operatives – especially Marcus, we grew up together for Merlin's sake."

Hermione heard the truth in his words, but was still not convinced that she should go anywhere with him. There were protocols and procedures which had to be followed. If she disappeared now, they might think she was also missing and spend resources trying to find her instead of focusing on Camille.

"Granger, we will get your partner back. But, you have to trust me – come on."

He grasped her hand, tugging her towards the moving train. Hermione dug in her heels, no; she had to do this the right way. She had to find Timothy and explain what had happened, it was the right thing to do. Running off to god knows where with Malfoy – a wizard who was on the top ten most wanted list – was not in her carefully laid out plans.

"Halt – traitor!" A booming voice overshadowed Hermione's thoughts. Spinning around she saw Timothy standing; legs wide apart and a stun-gun drawn. He looked furious.

It took a second for her to compute he had used the word 'traitor' in regards to her. Did he think she was in league with Malfoy? No, that would be ludicrous.

"Timothy, thank Merlin you're here. Camille's missing, we have to find her." Hermione shrugged off Malfoy's hand; which was still trying to grasp hers.

"Be quiet! Place your wand on the ground where I can see it. And step back with your hands on your head." Timothy's voice was so thunderous; it made the train appear positively silent.

"But…" Hermione trailed off, not sure what kind of new hell she'd stepped into.

"Do it, now!" Hermione almost threw her wand down in fear; then slowly placed her hands on her head. She felt a small tingle as Draco placed his finger tips on the small of her back. How come Timothy wasn't yelling at him too? "Hermione Granger, I am placing you under arrest for the murders of Isabelle Reid and Marcus Flint; also for the disappearance of Camille Rogers."

Hermione's jaw dropped as she spluttered incoherently. Timothy holstered the gun and began to walk towards her. At the same time, Draco fisted her shirt and pulled her backwards. Wide-eyed she watched as Timothy yelled out to her. But, confused and almost disorientated Hermione let herself be propelled backwards.

Malfoy grabbed her hand and pulled furiously. "Granger, wake the hell up. My scrambling spell is weakening; they'll be able to see me in a minute. You need to be with me for this."

_Huh?_ What was Draco on about? Scrambling spell, _with_ him? She was wanted for the murder of her co-workers and the kidnapping of her missing partner. Her brain whirled for a safe place to land, whilst she figured out logically how The Firm came to this insane conclusion.

Suddenly her right shoulder almost came out of its socket. The pain of Malfoy wrenching it brought her back to reality. She found herself running – running towards the back of the train which was six feet away and the gap was only widening.

"Oh crap, Malfoy. You're bloody insane, I can't…"

Hermione found she could. She flew through the air in a jump which would have put her in gold medal contention at the Olympics. She hit the metal grill on the back of the last carriage hard. Pain rocketed through her hand and she knew she had scraped at least four layers of skin from it. Her left ankle gave a scream of pain; then quieted to a painful throb almost immediately.

Looking behind them she saw the furious figure of Timothy disappear as they rounded a bend.

"Granger, are you okay?" Malfoy's voice startled her; he was close, too close.

Roughly she pushed him back, pain splitting her hand in half as the coarse fabric of his shirt ripped her shredded palm.

"Crap." Hermione cradled her hand to her chest as she glared at Malfoy. "What the frig is happening? You've been back in my life for half an hour, and already I'm wanted for murder. What's a damn scrambling spell?"

"Still won't say fuck, Granger?" He rested himself up against the back door of the carriage, for all intense and purposes like he was relaxing and enjoying the joyride.

Narrowing her eyes at him, she flipped him the bird; instantly regretting it when the pain flared again. He chuckled as she winced. Crap, she was hopeless at remembering where she'd hurt herself.

"It's something I came up with a few years ago, it's a relatively weak spell which only lasts about two minutes, but it effectively hides me in plain sight."

Hermione raised her eyebrow in question; he had come up with a new spell – on his own? The bookish part of her tried to stay impassive and not be impressed.

"It scrambles your enemy's sight. They sense somebody is there, but can't actually get a grasp on it. Although I haven't perfected it, after a minute or so they begin to see a blur. An invisibility cloak would be perfect, but we all know who has that."

Hermione smiled wryly, she was not going to get into a conversation about Harry. Though, she was uncomfortably awed at Draco's spell weaving. It was good – and useful. Gingerly she moved herself so she was mimicking Malfoys position. She had to think, had to figure out what had happened. Her life had back-flipped in the most spectacular way. How and why did The Firm believe Hermione had caused that horrific crime scene? Camille would back her up; she knew Hermione didn't do it. But, Camille was missing. It all felt a little too convenient to her.

"We will have to jump off before the next station." Malfoy's voice startled her out of her contemplation.

Hermione looked at him incredulously. "Excuse me?"

"Don't be daft, Granger. They know we are on the train. It belongs to The Firm, Timothy would have called it in and they'll be waiting for us at the next stop. Hopefully he couldn't get word to the guards on the train, and judging by the fact we haven't been attacked yet – I'd say he couldn't."

Hermione prickled at his condescending tone. She wasn't stupid, she just wasn't thinking straight. Now she had time to sit here, her dislike of him grew even more. In her mind, he was the cause of all her problems, hell, as far as she was concerned he instigated global warming.

"I've listened to you so far, and look where I am. Hurt, on the back of an underground train, being chased for murders I did not commit. This has all happened since you appeared again. Why the heck did you come back? To ruin my god damn life?" Hermione didn't even attempt to hide the bite in her voice, she was pissed.

Draco stiffened at her words. Then he looked at her squarely, his jaw clenched and unclenched a few times. Hermione pointedly did not look at his lips. "So you don't want to play it nice. Fine, I can do that. I'm back to save your fucking ungrateful arse."

Hermione let out a derisive laugh. "Like hell, you're back for your own means. Don't try and play the hero, it doesn't suit you. I'm just a pawn in whatever game you're playing. You have no idea what I'm going through…wrongly accused of…"

Malfoy slammed his hand down next to Hermione's leg as he jumped to his feet, making her start.

"Right, Granger. I would _never_ know what it's like to be accused of a murder I didn't commit…no, I know what its like to be accused of three of them _and_ for masterminding a plot to kill another seventy. So do not sit there on your high horse because you've felt displaced for twenty minutes. I've fucking lived with it for six years…"

Draco trailed off as he looked back into the darkness of the tunnel. Every so often lights would illuminate the track. Hermione saw how stiff his shoulders were, and pushed down the pity she felt for him. Feeling weakness when up against Malfoy was not the way to proceed. She had already been taken in by him once. This time she wouldn't – she couldn't. She would stick with him long enough to find out what he knew; then she would find her own way.

"Okay, I concede you have a point. But, how the hell do we get off a train which is hurtling through a dark tunnel at 100miles per hour? I'm tough, but not that tough." Hermione winced again as her ankle throbbed when she moved into a crouch and stood up.

Draco turned and chuckled in irony when he saw her flinch from pain. The deep sound reminded her of just before they kissed. She pressed her fingernails into her palm scrape to make sure she thought of something else. The pain gave her clarity; then she looked back at Malfoy.

"Yep, you're tough as nails, Granger. The train refuels in about thirty miles; it's a mid-way fuel station, no platforms. But, we can get off and Apparate out. No wards will prevent it since it's in the middle of nowhere. The Firm thinks they have a fool proof train network. They need to research more; it took nothing for me to find out this glitch in their security."

"There's just one small problem with your plan, Mr. Know It All – my wand is back at the station."

Draco looked at her with surprise written plainly across his face. "You. Left. _Your_. Wand, back there? Granger, you haven't let that stupid wand out of your sight since the day Ollivander handed it too you. And the first time Timothy yells at you, you drop it and run." Malfoy was actually smirking now. Hermione frowned.

"He's bloody scary, Malfoy. I wasn't thinking – I'd just been accused of murdering my friends. So, I'm _sorry_ I panicked and…"

"Left such a powerful wand for the enemy's to plant evidence on." Draco finished off her sentence.

"That's not what I was going to say…do you think that's what they'll do?"

Draco sighed again in impatience. "Yes, Granger. That's exactly what they'll do. Remember my wand?"

Hermione did, she had seen the evidence herself - too many ghostly apparitions came from the end of it when tested. It was now in a secure location in the vault of The Firm's main office in London. Hermione's pre-conceived notions of Draco's guilt and his exile came under question. Had she been wrong? Had she hated him for no reason for 6 years when she should have tried helping?

Draco smirked at her. "God's, Granger, they had you completely fooled. Who would have thought the 'brainiest witch of her age' could have been taken for a ride so easily." Draco even punctuated the title Dumbledore had given her with his fingers. No, she _had_ hated him for good reason for all these years. Because he was an infuriating conceited pillock.

"I hate you, Malfoy. And it has nothing to do with you abandoning me and leaving me to Azkaban for a month either. I hate you because…"

Draco slapped his hand to her shoulder, gripping it so tightly she thought his fingers would curl right around and pierce her skin. It was violent enough for her to stop mid-sentence.

"Ow, you're hurting me." Hermione looked up into grey eyes full of horror. She couldn't understand his reaction, it was old news now.

"They put you in Azkaban? Those arseholes, those absolutely mental damn fucking arseholes." Draco's grasp tightened again, as his other hand gripped her wrist; his finger stroking her pulse point slowly as he stared into her eyes. Hermione had never felt so uncomfortable; one hand had a death grip whilst the other caressed her. He was the mental one, yet why was Hermione holding her breath in anticipation of his next move. Would it be pain – or pleasure?

"Please, let go. My shoulder is still currently attached to my body; I'd like to keep it that way."

Thankfully, Draco let go, but he still held her wrist; driving her mad with his feather light strokes. What was he doing? Did he even realise?

"Tell me, Granger. Tell me what they did to you." Draco's voice was low and rough. Barely concealed fury punctuated each word. He didn't release her wrist. Tingles raced up her arm to her slightly deadened shoulder. The combination of hurt and pleasure made her eyes flutter a second.

Why did he care now, he must have known what they would do to her. Surely he wasn't that thick?

"What do you think they did, Malfoy? You were my partner accused of the biggest murder plot to rival Voldemort. Of course I was charged of being part of the conspiracy. When they didn't catch you, then you failed to come forth to liberate me from any wrongdoing, they threw me in a holding cell at Azkaban. It took Marcus a month to get me out and prove my innocence."

Hermione felt a pang of loss, knowing Marcus was gone. She would spend the rest of her measly life finding out who had killed him. She refused to take the blame.

Malfoy's forehead suddenly rested on hers, startling her out of her thoughts of Marcus. His eyes were closed and he was breathing hard. Then they opened and stared right into her soul. She forgot to breathe. His fingers hesitated on her wrist; then he drew back almost violently, letting go of her completely. Hermione almost stumbled, she didn't even realise she was leaning into him.

"Right, aside from all that, are you good to go now?" His tone was all business, no emotion, no nothing. Had she imagined his compassion? What an arse. Hermione was always so unsure of herself when he was around. Malfoy made her feel a million different things, the majority of them unpleasant. Well if he could just shrug off the darkest days of her years, so could she. It would be the last time she opened herself up to him; he could just suffer in silence the next time he asked about her past.

"Yes, apart from the wand…"

Draco held up his hand to show a wand she'd never seen before. Her eyes widened in shock.

"Is that a bootlegged wand? Malfoy, that's illegal."

He shook his head in wonder. "How do you think I've lived all these years without detection? Relying on my wit and good looks…well actually, I may have done just as well if that were the case." He smirked again, making Hermione scowl.

"Being a gigolo aside, is that thing safe to use?"

Draco's mouth curved up again. _Damn him_. "Relatively."

The train began slowing down into a stop. Once there was no movement, Draco jumped off the back onto the tracks. Holding his hands up like she was a child, she fell into his arms. She didn't want help, but she was hurt and it would be a stupid move not to accept his offer. She needed to heal so she could escape. Draco caught her under the arms and slowly let her onto the ground, so as not to jolt her ankle. She was surprised he remembered her injured foot. Though now she was on solid ground she realised it wasn't too damaged, just sore.

Suddenly, the back door flung open and two very large guards bolted out. Obviously Timothy managed to get word to them. Hermione then realised the train had stopped, so all communication lines would be open. Due to the wards hiding the train, you couldn't communicate with it whilst it was moving. Now they'd stopped – it was game on.

"Oh, shit a brick." Hermione gasped.

Draco stilled, and looked at her; one brow rose. "That's it, that's all your going to say…shit a brick? Merlin, Granger, we need to work on your cussing."

Hermione stared in disbelief; he was ribbing her while guards scrambled off the back of the train, with the intent of hurting them. He was unbelievable. She also knew there was a touch of crazy in him too, his mood swings were phenomenal. Joking one moment, furious the next then conceited within a second. Hermione didn't know which one was his true self. But right now she needed kick-ass Malfoy, and hoped he'd been training

A guard ran over to her, and she lifted her fists into a fighting stance. Hermione didn't need a wand; she had thousands of hours racked up in martial arts and hand to hand combat. She had many demons to flush out, and fighting made them disappear; even if only for a moment.

Before the guard had even stopped in-front of her, she'd pushed her open palm up into his chin, stunning him. The force behind her halted him in his tracks. She saw Malfoys look of surprise, but then the second guard jumped on him. Literally.

Hermione bit back an adrenaline fueled laugh at how ridiculous Malfoy looked with a guard being piggy backed by him. Then her guard regained his position. Hermione put pressure on her injured ankle and knew it would be worse after the fight. Yet, they had to escape, and since there was only one wand between them; they needed to be together to make a side-on Apparate.

Luck was on Hermione's side and the man she was fighting was tall and gangly. He punched out at her. She ducked out of the way at the last moment, so he lost a bit of balance. Dropping into a crouch, she swept her leg around and connected with his shins. He went down like a sack of potatoes, hitting his head on the track. He didn't move again, he was out cold.

"Well, that was easy." Hermione knew if he had been an experienced fighter she would have been in trouble. Luckily, The Firm employed novice guards for the trains, since not once had it been attacked. The guards had only just begun the grueling training schedule, which made it a piece of cake to disarm them.

Hermione laughed out loud when she saw Malfoy spinning around rapidly, the guard still on his back. It looked like he was giving a whizzy to a child. Stopping abruptly, the guard tried to punch him. Draco slammed himself back against the tunnel wall, head-butting his attacker in the process. Hermione heard the guard gasp for breath as he got winded. He dropped from Malfoys back almost immediately.

Malfoy swaggered over to Hermione, and looked down at her guard.

"Not bad, not bad at all. You've improved - marginally."

Hermione huffed in anger. "At least I dropped mine in half a minute; you were too busy playing leap frog with yours."

He smirked down at her and pulled the wand out, the illegal bootlegged wand. "Ready, Granger?"

"Relatively." She replied as Draco wrapped his arm around her shoulder and the world spun into a cacophony of sickening colours and feelings.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks so much for all the wonderful people who have read, alerted, favourited and reviewed this story so far! It means so much to me and my humble muse. I am trying to individually reply to your reviews, so I thank you again, I love to hear what people think! Hope you enjoyed the new chapter; the next one will be up next week sometime!**


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione remained disorientated for a few seconds before realising they were outside a building in the rain. By the time she inhaled even one breath, her hair and clothing had moulded to her body like a second skin. _Perfect, _they were standing in a torrential downpour.

Inhaling deeply, Hermione caught a hint of the unmistakable saltiness which came from being near the sea. Before she could ask Draco _where_ exactly in the world they stood, her entire vision spiked as a burst of light flashed behind her eyes. Within a second Hermione found herself up against a well muscled chest. God's had she fainted? Her ankle throbbed; and the beginnings of a migraine pressed in on her temples. Draco was looking down at her, face pinched with worry. The rain had plastered his blonde hair against his scalp, and rivulets of water made pathways down his chin; which then dripped onto her chest. As soon as he saw she was awake, his whole demeanour turned indifferent.

"Granger, I had no idea you were so frail. The Firm is obviously letting their training department flounder, especially if you're the level of stamina which comes out of it."

Hermione felt her face flame red. "Put me the hell down then, you boorish oaf, I can damn well walk."

Draco deposited her back on the sidewalk; where she promptly fell on her butt. Sharp pain stabbed up her leg from her swollen ankle. Hermione managed to hold in a grunt of pain, but Malfoy had seen her face.

"Stupid stubborn witch." Within a flash, she was back in his strong embrace; heading into the dryness of the buildings foyer. Water still dripped off Draco's hair, and Hermione watched in fascination as a drop hit his neck then trailed into the top of his t-shirt. The insane urge to trace it with her fingers flew through her and she stiffened.

"It's okay, Granger. You only have to suffer my touch for another few moments." His voice was terse; yet she detected a note of something else within it, hurt - not quite, but close. She wanted to explain it wasn't his touch which made her react, but she didn't want to admit the real reason either.

They travelled to the twenty first floor; where Draco managed to open the door of a large apartment with his hip. Looking around, Hermione surmised he was living quiet well for somebody on the run. Windows ran from floor to ceiling and took up the entire length of the lounge. The city was spread out beneath them, and the ocean was a blue wink in the distance. On a sunny day, you'd be able to see for miles. The entire room was a designers dream; subtle pieces of furniture were dotted around, each one beautiful; but not enough to detract from the view.

"It's not mine." Draco remarked casually.

Hermione looked up at Draco as he deposited her on a huge leather couch, her forehead gently knocking his cheek. Before he moved away, he grabbed her leg just behind the knee. She flinched. Scowling, he placed it up on the cushions; so it was elevated.

Hermione blushed; she didn't mean to be so sketchy. But he was making her nerves scream; mainly because she found him rather disarming when being chivalrous. She sank into the sofa's softness for a moment, before realising she was soaking it from her wet clothes. Draco motioned for her not to worry, so she immersed herself back into it; while he moved to lean up against the breakfast bar. To her dismay he looked gorgeously unkempt; unconsciously she reached up to her hair and almost gasped. It was a birds-nest. How did she always end up looking a fright; while Malfoy looked like a rugged action hero? _Focus on the now, Hermione – not how delectable Malfoy looks._

"Sorry, what's not yours?"

"The apartment. It's not mine. It belongs to Peter Francis; he's an Australian art dealer who sells magical pieces. He fly's into Ireland every other month." Draco turned around and rustled about in a small cabinet, he emerged with two small shot-glasses.

Ignoring her protest, he made her skull down a Fire-Whiskey. It would apparently help stave off a cold; she hoped he didn't want to get her drunk. She wasn't used to alcohol. Hermione passed on his offer for a second glass; so Draco poured himself a fresh one with ice and positioned himself back at the bar.

"How do you know this Peter guy then? Plus, why would he help a fugitive if he's part of the magical community? Surely he must know who you are? Oh God's, you didn't lie to him did you? Use a spell? Confound him?"

Draco smiled at her wryly. "You're full of questions, Granger. To answer all of them in one go - not exactly. He doesn't know I use it."

"What! He doesn't know you're here drinking all his alcohol? No, we can't be here. You're trespassing, Draco. That's…that's…unethical. My god, I've probably ruined his sofa." Hermione flailed her arms around, and leapt off the couch. Immediately she regretted her brashness as she found herself once again on the floor. She was completely hopeless when it came to remembering her many injuries.

"Granger, you're up on two murder charges, and currently hanging out with one of the most wanted wizards in England. Somehow I don't think having a shower and changing into clean clothes is going to add any more bad karma to your life." Draco skulled the rest of his drink, then walked over and hefted her back up onto the arm of the couch.

For some unfathomable reason, Hermione saw red at his flippant words. It was _her_ damn life which was in turmoil, not his. Logically this made no sense, since his life definitely wasn't peachy; but she was beyond reasoning capabilities.

"Hanging out? Is this what you call it? Bloody hell, Malfoy, you practically kidnapped me against my will. Now they probably think we're working together. All of my studies and hard work completely down the drain because of my damn association with you. Ever since that first day in Hogwarts you've been nothing but a thorn in my side. My life is now officially a…a…cluster, and it's your entire fault. Oh, you'd better add break and entering into the list of sordid deeds now." Hermione finished on a yell, not even sure where her tirade came from. _Oh yeah_, not sleeping for three days and being accused of murder could do that. Plus a half-friendly Malfoy was not something she could handle anymore; it made her insides all squiggly.

Malfoy's silver eyes narrowed. "There's the shrew we all remember from Hogwarts. Right, Granger, I've tried being nice. But Merlin you're a damn difficult spoilt witch to deal with. I thought Pansy was demanding, she was nothing compared to you. Oh and I think the correct term is – cluster-fuck, your life is a cluster-_fuck_. Welcome to my world, Granger. Showers on your left, you stink to high heaven."

Hermione's mouth dropped in disbelief and she almost toppled off the couch again. The front door slammed as Malfoy left the apartment.

"You, freaking pig." She yelled at the empty hallway. _How dare he_, Hermione huffed and swore under her breath. "Yeah, I smell, not as bad as you, you smell of deceit and bullshit."

She should walk away now - well hobble; it was the perfect escape. Hermione had wanted to find Camille by herself anyway. But now she was accused of murder, everything had changed. She couldn't use The Firms staff or resources, and she was at a loss on what to do. She was technically alone in the world; not even able to contact Ron or Harry without putting them in a sticky situation. And what did Malfoy know about it? He'd said he was there to save her. How could he possibly have known she would need help; before she knew it? Was it his excellent gut feeling? Possibly not. Was he psychic? Not likely. Maybe he was part of the conspiracy to frame her for murder – most probably.

Hermione distrusted him to the nth degree. But damned if there wasn't some pull of attraction to him, a pull of wanting to believe him; but she wasn't sure what to think. And up to this point he was acting in her favour, not against it.

Shaking it off, she jumped into the shower, and not because of anything Draco said. She was showering purely on her terms. Hermione wanted to desperately think on all the deceitful things Malfoy could be up to as the hot water hit her. Yet, his grey eyes full of compassion swirled before her. He'd tried to be nice and she'd thrown it back at him – well could he blame her? She refused to feel bad.

Washing out her tangled hair felt heavenly, and she absently wondered whether Draco had used the shower before; it was huge. She stopped the thought immediately; Hermione didn't want to know if she stood naked where he had. She felt an unwelcome tingle in her lower abdomen. Then as she soaped herself up with a very masculine body wash, she realised it was his smell. Hermione dropped the bottle to the floor with a clatter - her nipples hardening instantly. The thought came unbidden – she was rubbing the same shower gel over her body as he did.

Against her screaming logical brain, Hermione leant up against the shower wall and let her traitorous imagination run free. It couldn't hurt for a few seconds could it? She had seen how spectacular Draco looked with wet hair stuck to his scalp; it wasn't a hard fantasy to move into the shower.

Suddenly she could picture him – every feature perfectly proportioned. He was pink and warm from the shower; trails of bubbles ran down his taut stomach into the coarse hair of his groin. As she imagined lower; she saw he was hard and ready for her. Hermione gasped as she slid her hands over her aching breasts, the gel making her hands slippery and hot over her sensitive nipples. She continued with her fantasy.

Hermione grasped Draco's cock, and squeezed tightly; relishing in the complete hardness he had - for her. Hermione's daydream had gone into overdrive as she let her fingers slick with wetness run over her taut clit. She leant one hand against the shower wall, while planting her feet wide apart. Hermione let herself take the pleasure. Damn it, she deserved to feel something good on such a crappy day. Her fingers made a wet slapping noise as she pumped her fingers in and out of her tightness. It had been so long since she'd had a wizard, that even her fingers felt phenomenal.

What brought her over the edge was the thought of Draco, wandering around the apartment; having no idea she was fantasising about him. White light hit her eyes, and she cried out his name as her knees buckled at the intensity. It really had been too long.

Within a second of her orgasm, Hermione felt a blanket of embarrassment swamp her. How could she think of him whilst coming? Of all people, Draco was the one she desired the least. _Liar._ Hermione firmly told her inner-voice to be quiet as she thought about it logically.

Granted, he was unbelievably good looking – border-lining on obscene. So by all rights why _shouldn't_ she fantasise about the hottest man she knew? Using her common sense, Hermione concluded her brain had given her a hot forbidden tryst to keep her rage at bay. Anger and lust were closely entwined after all – weren't they? She'd always found him physically pleasing, but personality wise he was just a conceited double crossing pig.

Her fantasy was to stop her actually acting on the ludicrous attraction she felt for him. That's all. Hermione felt better after reasoning it all out, she wasn't losing her sane mind after all. The fact she spent an inordinate amount of time reasoning it out in the first place; should have been an indication of how she truly felt. Instead, she blocked it out with the intention of never letting Malfoy touch her in the first place. The little voice yelled out – _methinks the lady doth protest too much._ Hermione had every intention of killing the voice at the nearest convenience.

Wrapping herself in one extremely thick fluffy towel, Hermione stuck her head out the bathroom door and called Malfoy's name. When she garnered no reply, she padded out awkwardly to the kitchen to find antiseptic for her palm. She might even find strapping for her ankle. She was bent over looking in the bottom drawer when a noise behind her startled her.

Malfoy stood as still as a statue, an open look of desire on his perfect face. His steel grey eyes were dark and slitted. Hermione gulped when she realised she had been giving him a first class view – right up her towel. When had he returned? Oh gods was he in the apartment while she… - no, she couldn't even think it. She felt a flush of arousal at his hooded gaze.

He strode over in two steps, grabbing the knot of her towel which was nestled between her breasts. Hermione held her breath. Was he going to rip it away from her body? She hated that her mind screamed for him to do just that. She moved slightly and his wrist came in contact with her breast. Hermione shivered in lust; Draco dropped his hand like he'd been bitten.

"I suggest you find more to wear in future than just a scrap of towelling. I warn you, Granger, don't mess with me. It's been longer than you could imagine since I've had the pleasure of a witch. If you're going to flaunt your body to me, expect consequences - one's that will have you screaming my name for hours on end." He let _that_ particular thought swirl through her mind for a second. His expression never changed. "Though, we shall no doubt both regret our actions the next morning. A Malfoy still has pride, but I'm struggling to hold onto it at the moment. So I say again, watch your step, Granger."

Hermione squeaked and ran for her room, her insides knotted and a feeling of shame washed over her. She had let him get to her, _damn it,_ she was hopeless. His words rang through her ears, did she flaunt herself? Not on purpose anyway, she squashed the damn infuriating voice which was telling her; maybe she did. Hermione hung her head, hiding her face in her hands. She then realised she was sitting on a bag. Opening it she found new clothes, all in her size. Damn it, she had just messed up his peace offering.

Rifling through her old jeans she found the shrunken file that she'd grabbed from the safe house. This was the ace up her sleeve, yet she couldn't find out what it was right now. She needed a wand. And to get one - she either had to steal the bootlegged one from Malfoy, or trust him. After dressing, Hermione lay back on the bed and hoped sleep would help make the decision.

A loud rapping on the door; and Draco calling her name woke her. It only felt like ten minutes after she lay down. But, she knew by the warmth of the bed it had been much longer.

She flung open the door, ready to do battle with the master again, but what she saw made her gasp. Draco had blood on his shirt and his face was red; it looked like he'd been punched.

"What the…?"

"No time – grab what you need, we've been compromised. They must have traced the wand back to us here." Draco ran back towards the lounge, where Hermione heard a bang.

Hermione's heart raced and hammered loudly in her ears. Throwing on a tight black leather jacket over her new jeans and t-shirt, she pulled her well worn boots on. Patting her pocket she felt the file. Time to go.

She raced into the lounge to see a masked ninja complete with nun-chucks fighting with Draco. The ninja was winning; he rained down blow after blow. Without thinking, Hermione grabbed a large cylindrical stone vase and lobbed it. It struck the ninja on the temple and he fell back, not unconscious but stunned. Draco shot her a thankful look which made her chest tighten; then they were running from the apartment.

Fortunately the elevator doors were open, almost welcoming them into its small steel embrace. It was only after they were inside, that Hermione wondered whether the fire escape might have been a safer option.

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. We need a game plan, Granger." Draco ran a hand through his hair violently. It fell back into place with a softness a shampoo company would crave. Hermione scowled, knowing if she ever tried running a hand through her hair it would stick up like static.

"Well saying that word a hundred times, won't help."

He smirked down at her, grey eyes crinkling at the edges. "Prude."

"I am not; I just have other words I like to use better." Hermione looked up at the descending glowing numbers - twelve floors left.

"Yeah like; friggin, diddums, crap and my personal favourite - shite. That one is almost worthy of a swear jar deposit."

Before Hermione could come up with a suitable retort about how she would be a millionaire if she had a Sickle for every time _he_ swore, the elevator jerked; then stopped.

"Oh, shit, Granger. If you want to start using a decent word, now's the time. They are going to drop us to the basement." Draco was frantically patting himself down. "The damn wand is still in the apartment."

"What!" Hermione all but screamed at him. Panic and fear choked her, and she gasped for a breath. Draco smacked her on the back as the elevator shook again. Right, panic later; she had watched countless Muggle action movies with an ex-boyfriend. She could get them out - hopefully.

"Up there, boost me." Hermione pointed to the man hole. Draco crouched and she jumped on his neck, legs wrapped around his head. In any other circumstance she would feel uncomfortable, but the elevator dropped a foot so she punched up with her good hand. The puny lock snapped as the door flung open.

Reaching up, Hermione grasped the edges, managing to manoeuvre her body up into the hole. She was now on-top of the elevator, surrounded by gears, grease and a loud whining noise. She saw Draco jump up and grasp the lip of the hole. Hermione went to help drag him through, but he pulled himself up with no problems. She gaped at him for the longest second at his impressive strength.

"Merlin, that is _so_ hot." Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth; where the hell did that come from? Her mind was screaming at her to use her inside voice.

Draco pointed at his ear, shrugged and mouthed 'what'. Hermione shook her head as if to say 'doesn't matter', her face going beet red. Thank the gods he didn't hear her over the engine. The steel contraption jerked again, she looked up and saw sparks flying. Man-made steel and thick wire cables were obviously giving their attackers wands a little trouble. It gave her and Draco more time. He pointed to the ladder built onto the wall; Hermione made her way to him, climbing over cables. Draco had one hand on the ladder and held his other out towards her.

At that precise moment, the elevator gave one last groan and shook like an earthquake. Hermione stumbled over her bad ankle, falling to her hands and knees. Her brain screamed at her to get up, get to safety. But, her response time was lagging. She knew without a doubt within seconds she would be flatter than a piece of plywood.

Suddenly a large arm looped around her stomach, yanking her upright fiercely. Then there was nothing under her feet as the elevator dropped away. Hermione free-fell for a nano-second before being jerked to the side of the shaft. She heard a grunt of exertion from above her. Grasping Draco's arm tightly, she saw he had looped a foot around the rung of the ladder. It gave him just enough leeway to grab her. But, the position put him in a lot of pain.

Hermione grabbed the ladder, letting him readjust without her weight to hamper him. They ended up next to each-other; one side of the ladder each. Hermione looked down as the elevator sparked and squealed to the ground. But it was the whipping sound above her, which made her freeze. The thick oiled cable was thrashing through the air. If it came into contact with them, they would be sliced in half.

"The cable." Hermione screamed at Draco. They were out of time. She took one last look at Draco's mercurial grey eyes; then slammed her lips against his. If she was going to die, she was dying in style. Draco stilled in shock against her parted lips, but only for a second. The whirling sound became deafening as his tongue slid into her mouth. She bit his tongue playfully, and she felt burning heat against her back. Then a crash bellowed through the shaft, shaking the ladder so hard, it shook her away from Draco. Hermione's knuckles whitened with the force of her grip on the steel rung. The elevator had hit the bottom. By some miracle the cable hadn't come anywhere near them. Hermione let out the deep breath she wasn't aware of holding.

"So…Granger. Your last desire in life was to kiss me. Good to know." Draco was smirking at her from the other side of the ladder. If she wasn't holding on for dear life, she would have slapped him. _Conceited prick._

"Not at all, _Malfoy_. I was almost killed. I can't be held accountable of how my body responds to a near death experience. I'm sure anyone would have sufficed; actually, I would have much preferred that. Your kisses lack spark." Hermione lied through her teeth, the kiss was incomparable.

Draco's eyes darkened, and his jaw tightened. "Well, if that's the case, I hope _they_ would have bothered to save your life – again. It must be terribly frustrating having someone as uncivilized as me saving the high and mighty, Miss Granger."

Hermione's smug satisfaction ebbed as the feeling of being thoroughly chastised hit. He _had_ just saved her life – again. But before she could apologise, or thank him, he had begun to ascend to the elevator doors on the next level. She felt ashamed; her parents had brought her up better than that. Yet, there was something about Malfoy that bought out her snide defensiveness.

"Hurry up, Granger. They won't have given up. We need to get out of here, save your partner and clear both our names. And the way things are going, the sooner the better."

Using brute strength, Draco forced open the elevator doors. After ascertaining there were no bad guys in the immediate vicinity, they scrambled out and headed for the stairs.

"Look, Draco. I'm sorry…" Hermione was halted by his sharp look and liquid grey eyes full of anger.

"Don't, Granger. Don't say anything. I don't need or want to hear you blathering on about nothing. You've made it blatantly clear I'm not one of your allies. We help each other now; then we don't have to have anything to do with each other. I just want my life back, and I'm sure you do too. We are using each other as a means to an end, nothing more."

Hermione watched the back of his head as they descended the stairs rapidly. What could she say to that? It was exactly how she _should_ be feeling. He had betrayed her by lying to her years ago. But, within the space of a day, she had felt like they were partners again - like nothing _had_ changed. Even though Hermione dished out harsh words, she felt a renewed kindle of excitement in her stomach. Working with Draco was an experience she had never been able to duplicate with Camille. The rash decisions, the rush, the tension of never knowing what would happen next. It all added up to something Hermione craved, yet would never admit to wanting.

She burned to know exactly what had happened all those years ago, almost as much as she wanted to know what he'd been doing since then. More importantly she needed to find out what he knew about _her_ current situation. Because it was obvious he knew things, and he was holding out on her. Hermione thought about the file in her pocket, and knew he wasn't the only one with secrets.

Her mind was jumbled by thoughts of right and wrong; her instincts yelling to trust him. But could she? She had held onto her hatred of him for so long, could she just sweep it aside? And was it truly hatred, when she had to keep reminding herself to hate him?

They burst into the foyer and stopped dead in their tracks.

"Ah, Hermione, it seems you have picked up an unwanted stray on your adventure." Franklin Lawson stood before them, in a pristine floor length Armani coat; looking like he'd just stepped from the latest issue of GQ. He was the head honcho at The Firm and at this moment looked the part of a smarmy agent to a tee.

Draco sneered, holding his arm out to curve Hermione close into his back. He was shielding her, and it confused her to no end.

"You're here alone, Franklin, I never pegged you as the heroic daredevil type. Especially one who would go up against operatives such as Granger and myself." Draco's voice was full of contempt, Hermione frowned. Why did he hate Franklin? Maybe he was here by himself, to help them out of this fiasco.

"If you choose to believe that, then do. I wondered when you would show up again, my rogue agent. A killer of those who he worked beside..."

"You know damn well I killed no-one." Draco's voice cracked like a whip across the room. His arm continued to push her behind him. Was he still trying to keep her safe after everything she had said to him?

As Franklin laughed derisively, Hermione saw a small exit door behind the front desk. If they needed an escape it would be the only one. They had no wands or weapons, just their wits. Hermione tried not to despair. Instead, she watched Franklin closely, he looked different. It hit her - he never sneered, never at her anyway. His whole face had transformed from pleasant to a barely concealed maliciousness.

"Granger, I want to make a deal." Franklin's voice was sugary sweet. Hermione shivered, and Malfoys arm tightened around her. She now knew something was wrong. No-one except Marcus and Malfoy called her by her last name. What had happened to Franklin?

"I'm listening." She felt Draco stiffen and did the only thing she could think of; she slid her hand under his shirt and rubbed him gently on the heat of his lower back. Crap, it made her lose focus for a second. He loosened up slightly, understanding her intention.

"Give us Draco, and all the charges against you will be dropped. He's the one we want. If not, you will be sent to the tribunal again - after a lengthy wait in Azkaban." Hermione shivered in revulsion as Franklin continued speaking. "He's the reason Isabelle and Marcus are dead, you couldn't leave well enough alone…"

"Enough!" Draco shouted across the space. "I promise you, Franklin - the truth will come out. I'll make sure of it."

"I'm sure you will, Draco. But who will explain to Miss Granger here, how you used her again? She won't forgive you a second time."

Hermione looked up at Draco sharply, his cheek twitched faintly. What was Franklin talking about? What did Malfoy think he knew? She had much to ask him when they were safe and had a moment of time. Hell, even if they had no moment, she would tackle him and force some form of information from him.

Deep inside, Hermione knew she would regret her next decision, but it seemed like she _had_ to throw her lot in with Draco. Well for the immediate future anyway. Franklin had made it clear she wouldn't be walking out of here a free woman, even if he had promised her freedom – she knew it was lies. The thought of Azkaban was a huge incentive to stay away from The Firm until she knew what was going on.

Having nothing to lose, Hermione jerked Draco's arm as she sprinted for the door she spied earlier. Bursting through, a young wizard looked up in shock. He obviously didn't expect them to be brazen enough to try and escape Franklin. Hermione took one look at him and punched him square in the nose. He grabbed his face as blood spurted every which way; she felt a pang of regret at hurting a fellow agent, but knew it couldn't be helped. They sprinted across the room, and hit the fire escape door. Cold air and rain greeted them as they started down the alley, Draco running slightly ahead of her.

"I will collect what's mine. I know you took it from Dubai, Hermione." Franklin's voice trailed after them, almost unintelligible over the pounding of their feet.

"What did you take?" Draco's voice came from over his shoulder.

She struggling to keep up, limping as she was. "His favourite tie," was her response.

Draco half turned and shook his head. He knew she was lying, but there was no time to get into it. They had to get away and fast.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked curiously, they were both knackered and sore. She hoped another ten rounds with The Firms guards would not be on the cards.

Draco turned to her, and smirked. She knew instantly she would disapprove of the new plan. "We are going to see a man about a wand."

* * *

**A/N; Hey guys, well another chapter down! Thanks again so much for the reviews, favourites and alerts, it makes my day seeing all of that – I have a smile a mile wide (well physically that's impossible – but you get my drift!) I really hope everyone is enjoying it so far, it was so fun to write! Feel free to let me know what you think! Next chapter will be up soon! :)  
**


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione fingered the cheap trinket with barely veiled contempt. It was a small dragon statue, complete with fake ruby eyes. Whoever Draco thought he was buying a 'good' bootlegged wand from, was obviously in the business of selling crap. It was a hoarders dream; the tiny cramped shop was floor to ceiling with useless junk. Although, out the corner of her eye Hermione spied a first edition of _Hogwarts a History_. Flicking through it idly, she waited while Draco finished his transaction.

Spud, or more civilly known as Scott, had apparently been running an illegal trade of stolen wands for years. This was all made possible due to a magically hidden trapdoor - which led into a dingy basement. The good cop in Hermione wanted to rat him out, yet she knew he was their only hope of getting out of this horrid situation alive. She hoped the wand they procured wasn't a botched 'fix-up' job. Hermione had visions of ending up with Ron's broken wand from Hogwarts.

Spud's slightly balding head popped up from the basement stairs; brandishing three old and worn wands. Hermione sighed in what she hoped was a disapproving tone. Judging by Malfoy's quick look, it had the desired effect. Glad he had acknowledged her; she stuck her nose back into the book, and read up on the wards which protected Hogwarts. It was still a riveting read - even though she knew the wards inside out; having experienced them first hand. Hermione also knew reading was an excuse to keep her eyes busy; they seemed to gravitate towards Draco a little to often for her liking.

"Here we go, David, the best of the best." Draco ignored her derisive huff, and picked up the first wand - testing its grip and weight.

Flicking his wrist, a tiny spark no bigger than a candle flame came from the tip – then nothing. Draco raised an eyebrow, fixing Spud with a withering look.

"Okay, okay, maybe not the best - give me a moment. I'll see what else I have. You're such a good and loyal customer; I must have grabbed the wrong ones." His squeaky voice disappeared into the gaping chasm which was the hidden booty room.

Hermione waltzed up and stood next to Malfoys shoulder; then tapped him with her book. "Please tell me you're not a 'loyal' customer. If you are, you have less brains than I give you credit for. He's a charlatan, a complete and utter rip off. He wouldn't know a good bootlegged wand if it hit him squarely on the nose and turned him into a Hippogriff."

"I'll have you know, 'David' _is_ a regular, and he has gotten more help from Spud over the years than from anyone else." Draco's eyes dropped to the book in her hand and he smirked. "Hogwarts A History, typical, Granger. Thank Christ I don't get my contraband from a bookstore. We would die of old age before getting out. It's also good to see you're keeping an eye out for our pursuers."

Hermione felt her face burn. "Just because I like to read, does not make me a bad operative. I _am_ watching out, I'm not male you know - I can do more than one thing at a time. Neanderthal. Just tell me then, how many times did I save your arse by knowing something I had read in a 'book'?"

Draco grinned at her, making her uncomfortably warm inside. "Touché, but I hardly think _that_ particular book will help us in our situation. Hang on – unless it tells you about the time the third Headmaster had to escape from Hogwarts, then go back later to save his insufferable know-it-all Potions teacher from great peril. Only to be chased by the entire staff of Hogwarts, while they proved their innocence."

Hermione glowered at him; making fun of _Hogwarts a History_ was not cool. Instead, she slammed it down on his forearm. Yelping, Draco snatched his hand off the counter. This in turn knocked a small device which was hidden near the register. Hermione and Draco held each others gazes as it rolled towards them.

"Oh shit, let's go!" Draco grabbed her hand, tugging her towards the rear of the shop.

It was an immobiliser – once pushed, you had a ninety second gap before it exploded. It was a pretty straight forward weapon - it immobilised everything in a 6 metre radius. Spud had betrayed them. He'd probably already called them in to the local Auror department. Not that Hermione hadn't seen this coming a mile away, _great idea Draco _– trust a man named after a damn vegetable.

Hermione worked out they had at least thirty seconds left before it went off. Pulling her arm free, she ran back to the counter. With a kick of her foot, the trap door slammed closed. She heard the magical seal reapply as the door disappeared from view. Spud would be stuck in there for quite a while. His muffled cry of surprise made her grin.

"You're excitingly evil, Granger. I think I like it." Draco turned a half smile on her, making her stomach explode with butterflies. "The mind boggles what you could be like if you actually allowed your guard to drop."

Hermione ignored his teasing gibe and grabbed the three wands which lay scattered on the counter. After a seconds consideration she grabbed the book as well. It _was_ a first edition after all. She didn't feel it was stealing since Spud had just called the authorities on them.

They flew out the back door in a sprint, almost smacking into a dumpster in the process. It was still pouring with rain, which made the ground even slipperier. Hermione flailed out wide, nearly losing her footing as Draco pulled her sharply around the corner. Before she could yell at him to slow down, the wall in-front of her exploded in sparks. _Oh Crap, _the back-up was here.

Hermione pulled out a random wand and cast a spell over her shoulder. She was immediately lifted off the ground and thrown ten feet forward; landing on a pile of cardboard boxes waiting for recycling. Draco was flung forward a few feet, but managed to stay upright.

Hearing a crash behind her, she spun to see the alley in complete disarray. It was almost unrecognisable; everything which wasn't bolted down; now blocked the small space. She let out a sigh of relief knowing it had stopped their pursuers; for a few moments anyway. The rain pelted down on her as she looked up to the sky. The dark clouds swirled menacingly; they'd have to find shelter – and soon.

"What the fuck just happened, Granger?" Draco slid to a stop before her; then proceeded to grab her arms and squeeze tightly. His hands felt warm and large on her slender forearms, she tried desperately not to imagine them doing other things. Before she could think, he'd moved onto her legs. Hermione felt lust spike. _Damn hormones._

"What are you doing? Let me bloody go." Hermione did not sound angry enough, she was unfortunately quiet husky. Malfoy's eyes held hers for a moment, a slight frown masking his true emotions. It was almost like he sensed her flare of arousal. _No way_, he couldn't – could he? He had all but said on the staircase, this was a job, nothing more. He ran a hand through his wet hair, exhaling loudly; before grabbing her ankle. She winced as it throbbed; she also needed a healing charm.

"Granger, you looked like a rag doll being thrown into a twister. I'm checking for broken bones, you daft woman." He didn't even look at her as he spoke. He just continued to check her over. His head was bent in concentration and his blonde hair kept falling into his eyes, he impatiently pushed it aside again. The rain was making it near on impossible for Hermione _not_ to find him attractive. _Stupid element._ Draco was bringing forward images she was desperate to repress. Like the kiss in the elevator shaft, and her naughty thoughts from her shower. Feeling heat rise in places Draco had no right to be making hot, she slapped his hands away.

"For pity's sake, I'm fine. It was the wand; it's obviously not a good fit for me. It might suit _you_ though, since it's brazen, cocky and likes to destroy things."

Draco smirked and pulled her upright. She was angry at her reaction, and she was angry at Draco bringing her to such an unscrupulous joint. But, before she could voice said anger, the pile of stacked alley junk began to tumble.

"Shit, is your ankle going to hold out? We have to make a proper run for it, since we can't check the bloody wands yet." Draco was furious, at her or the situation - she didn't know; there was no time to find out.

They made a dash for the road. Hermione watched in fascination as Draco straightened an arm out in-front of himself. It looked like he was about to salute. Three seconds later it became apparent what he was doing.

An operative from The Firm spun around the corner, wand in attack mode. Hermione gasped, then realised what Draco had done. His foresight ensured that the wizard had no time to react as Draco's hand crashed into his windpipe. Not fatal, but he would be gasping for air for a while.

They hit the main strip, Hermione limp-hopping and Draco pulling her along as fast as he was able. Looking over her shoulder every few moments became frustrating, but she couldn't see anyone chasing them. They must have put the majority of attackers out the back. Hermione almost shook her head in wonderment. The Firm's operatives were much better than this.

She began to wonder if they were being let go for some reason. This was the third time they had slipped away. Franklin could have stopped them with a flick of his wand. Plus, Draco had been out of the loop for six years and she was injured. Camille also weighed heavily on her mind, was she safe, was she a part of this craziness or was she dead? No – she wouldn't think that, yet.

"Please, Draco, we have to stop soon. My foot is literally ready to explode." She hadn't meant for her voice to sound so desperate; but Draco took one look at her and hefted her onto his shoulder. Hermione grunted in surprise, then anger. Never had she been so manhandled. He certainly had the strength though.

They ran for another undignified fifteen minutes, Hermione's face turning redder by the second. Draco stopped them by the side of a pub. As soon as her feet hit the ground; she spun on him.

"Do not, I repeat, do not _ever_ do that to me again. You freaking picked me up like a bag of apples."

"More like potatoes." He grumbled under his breath.

"Excuse me?" Hermione raised an eyebrow, rage quivering below the surface.

"Nothing. Also, no problems for saving you back there."

"My god, you really are the biggest most full of himself, conceited prick I've ever had the misfortune to bloody be stuck with." She exhaled raggedly, fury seething in every word.

"You're serious, aren't you? You're actually pissed at me for saving you. This is bollocks, Granger." Draco's face was pink from the exertion he expelled due to carrying her weight. Ignoring her, he looked around; obviously searching for somewhere to go. She had the urge to tell him exactly where to go.

"No, _Malfoy._ What's bollocks is the fact you haven't told me anything about what's happening. How you knew I was in trouble, what the deal with Franklin is - and why the hell you disappeared in the first place. _That's_ the problem."

He stopped still and shut his eyes for a moment. Once again, Hermione noticed his cheek twitch nervously. What was his great secret – the one which he wouldn't tell? She would find out, even if she had to be pleasant. She wasn't sure she could lie that convincingly though. Making nice for a moment, she placed her hand softly on his forearm. He opened his eyes in surprise, his look wary and guarded.

"Look, I've got a few euros; let's go into the pub, get a beer and hide for an hour. Then we test the wands and find Camille. It's been almost two days and I have no idea where she is. I need a wand for a locator spell, and one of those three has to do it."

Draco looked up and down the street for a second, and once he was satisfied no-one was following them; he led her inside the dark inn. Hermione found a booth near the back; it was close to the two exits - a back door and a window. It also had a clear view of the front door. Draco came over with two pints of larger. Not Hermione's first choice, but it was wet and the alcohol made her inside's warm.

After a moment or two in awkward silence, Hermione felt the need to say something, anything, but was stopped short by Draco's soft words.

"I had no option but to leave as I did all those years ago. Believe me it was not my choice. I left Malfoy Manor in receivership, and mother was unwell." Draco stopped for a second, Hermione didn't push him. She knew Narcissa passed away four years previously. She had gone to the funeral, thinking Draco would show – he didn't.

Draco took a swig of beer and looked out the window. His fingers played idly with the condensation on his glass. Hermione watched as he twirled pattern after pattern on his drink. She didn't want to feel sorry for him, yet there was a pang of some emotion starting deep in her chest.

"It all began a week before Romania. Do you remember the job we did in Milan?" Hermione nodded. "While you were getting debriefed in the lounge, I was on the balcony. I received an owl, a strange owl, a very unusual breed."

"You never mentioned this." Hermione felt chagrined at his annoyed sigh.

"I'm telling you now, Granger. Can you not listen for five minutes without interrupting?" Draco raised his eyes and met hers levelly. She didn't want to look away, it had been an age since they had just sat and talked. They used to do it all the time after a mission; she was unsettled to find she had missed it – terribly. His foot knocking hers broke the thought.

"To be honest, I don't think I can."

Draco gave her a wry smile and looked back out to the rainy street; his profile shadowed from the booth. "The owl brought a warning, a warning I didn't heed. It spoke of betrayals, corruption, deaths and more Galleons than you or I could spend in six different lifetimes. It also spoke of you, and of me."

"What! Me? Why did you get this owl? Who wanted you to know such things?"

"Granger, that's the problem. The owl was not for me. I was never supposed to be the one to receive the letter. I knew immediately I was in deep shit." Draco ran his hand through his hair again. Hermione noticed he only did this when frustrated, irate or had bad news. She also noticed it managed to distract her - each and every time he did it. She took a large gulp of beer so she didn't have to watch his damp hair realign itself. "Christ, I wish a thousand times over, that I hadn't gone out for fresh air."

"But you did, and now here we are, running away from everyone and everything. I don't even know whether to trust you, Draco – or to run the other way." Hermione looked into her ale, swishing it around the sides a moment before taking another swig.

Hermione absently wondered how they looked to other patrons, two lovers having a quarrel, maybe even a terrible blind date. Never in a million years would anyone pick what was actually going on.

"I can't force your trust, either way. But, you were always a smart girl; I think you'll figure out which path is the right one for you." Draco stood up and headed to the bar, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

"Oh crap." Hermione looked out the window and watched the rain fall. She had already decided to stay with Malfoy until she found a lead on Camille. Had she also already made the decision to fight along side him to clear their names? She didn't even need to answer that. She knew emphatically she was in deep with him – to the end. What the hell was it about Malfoy which bought out her wild side? The side which didn't listen to reason - the side which wanted to live dangerously.

"The side, which will get me killed." She grumbled.

Draco slid back into the booth with two new drinks. Hermione looked over at him and shook her head slightly. He raised an eyebrow at her movement.

"I hate you, you know that don't you, Malfoy?" His lips tilted up at her words. It was something she always said to him, just before they executed one of his hair-brained schemes. It seemed fitting.

"And I you, Granger."

They sat in silence for a few moments until Hermione couldn't contain herself. "What did the letter say about me?"

Draco stilled, letting his hand slowly place the drink on the table. It clinked loudly in the quiet. His guarded grey eyes searched her face for a minute, Hermione watched, and waited.

"I can't, not yet….it's complicated." His voice trailed off, yet his eyes stayed on hers. There was something in his face which made her hesitate before yelling at him.

Hermione moved on her seat and felt the file dig into her hip. It jolted her into awareness; she had almost forgotten its existence. She knew if they were to work together, a level of trust had to be reached. Although, at this moment she felt no great rush to give over her secrets; it seemed they were more alike than she wanted to admit. Maybe she _should_ tell him about what Marcus had hidden in the safe house. Instead, she nodded. He looked surprised but let out a long deep breath and sat back in his chair.

"Okay, so is there anything you _can_ tell me about?" Hermione thought she wouldn't get a response, but she was wrong.

"How about everything you thought you knew about Franklin, is a lie." Draco kept his eyes averted. Was he being serious? Franklin had always been obscenely nice to her.

"Elaborate…"

Draco dropped his fist to the tabletop and flexed it a few times. She could see he was struggling to tell her something. It scared her. Why was he so hesitant to tell her what he knew? "Damn it, I feel like the shitty older brother who tells his four year old sister that Santa doesn't exist."

Hermione let her palm hit the table, the slap noise made him look up sharply. "Malfoy, I never believed in Santa, it wasn't logical."

He let out a sharp bark of laughter. "Gods, Granger, of course you didn't." He shook his head and took in a deep breath. "You no longer only work for the good guys…"

Hermione frowned at Malfoy. "What do you mean?"

Draco ran his hand through his hair. _Oh oh_, it had to be bad. Draco watched her closely, making her feel a little intimidated. Sensing a hot flush rise in her cheeks at his scrutiny, she took another sip of beer. Damn him and his aristocratic good looks, why didn't he ever go funny when she stared at him?

"I mean, shit…." At Hermione's impatient groan, he sighed. "Fine, Granger. For all these years you thought you were working exclusively for a branch of the English wizarding spy association called The Firm, under the guidance of Franklin Lawson - right?" At her nod, he continued. "Well unbeknownst to you, you've actually been giving information to a shadow faction known only as Shade; these people are not good to get tangled up with."

"I don't understand; you're talking in riddles. Shade, I've never even heard the name before." Hermione's chest felt tight and breathing became difficult as Malfoy's words started to sink in.

"Granger, Franklin is a double agent, working against the English Wizarding Community. Which means by association so have you, since he's your direct superior. He's been sending you on covert operations to steal information for other governments."

Hermione stood up and slapped Malfoy hard across the face. She didn't even notice how he sat back and took the brunt of her hit - like he was expecting it. How dare he even say out loud, that she would betray her country - and in turn her very ethics. She would know emphatically if she was stealing sensitive information. She would…she had to know if that was happening…

"Think about it a moment. Have you ever been sent on a mission only to have the objective changed at the last minute? Have you ever wondered why you were sent all over the world for menial files, especially when there were other lower level operatives who could have done it? As far as I know, the tribunal at The Firm have no idea about Franklin's and your involvement with Shade."

"Freaking hell, Malfoy. I didn't even bloody know about my involvement." Hermione felt like she would vomit. She sat back heavily on her chair, ignoring Draco's stare. Hermione prided herself on thinking things through; she never let her emotions run wild. Well right now she was ready to kill something, and Malfoy was the closest thing to her. But damned if she needed more information from him, when she got it - the slaying would commence.

_Crap._ How the hell did The Firm not pick up on a double agent within their midst? She couldn't help but be thankful about that though, she could be sitting in Azkaban for being a traitor. Logically this was a good thing, at least now she knew the truth and could clear her name. Then she would bring justice to the bastards that did this to her. The whole situation was ludicrous, it was horrendous, and it all made sense. Something inside her still wanted to refuse it was true though. She felt a strong need to disagree and argue. Squashing these two emotions almost killed her.

"How did you know?" She ended up asking instead, tight lipped. "Oh Merlin, is Camille involved?"

"No she's not, I think she's innocent. And I knew, because what's happening to you now, is exactly what happened six years ago to me. The murders, the accusations, the mark over your head – I've lived it. I've been trying to gather evidence all these years, but nothing would stick. I couldn't get a proper lead on that bastard. " Draco looked back out the window, the rain had eased.

"What! You knew! You knew all these years and didn't say anything to me – to anyone?" Hermione's voice was so loud other patrons began to look. Draco tried to quieten her down. "Don't shush me you arrogant bastard. I've been the right hand woman to a damn bloody double agent for six years and you knew the whole time. I can't believe you knew – where the hell are your ethics? Oh right, you take after your father."

Draco's gray eyes snapped to her livid brown ones. Hermione's anger dissipated somewhat at the pure fury being thrown her direction. Maybe she had crossed that invisible line.

"I. Am. Nothing. Like. My. Father." His voice was clipped and so low; Hermione almost had to strain to hear him. Then her anger responded to his, she felt a ball of energy in her chest.

"Don't you get all high, mighty and pissed off at me, Malfoy. I have just the same right to be furious as you do. More so I think. One crack about your parentage is nothing compared to six years betraying your country. Something which could have been avoided if you bloody didn't run scared and warned me."

Malfoy pulled her from the booth and away from the interested stares they were receiving from the bar staff. Hermione didn't bother to try and escape, she was too pissed off. He opened a back door, pulling her behind him. Then he threw her against the wall of the beer garden. They were getting wet again, but the damp fresh air cooled her anger – minutely.

"Enough, Granger. That's bloody enough." He leant in close, and her heart skipped a beat. This only stoked her anger again. "I know you're fucking furious, but I need you to use it. I need your help to nail this bastard to the wall, to make him accountable for all the wrong he's done. Trust me when I say to you, I will explain everything in full, when this is over."

He was breathing hard, and Hermione could feel his movements against her own chest. Her anger turned into something else. Her traitorous body was calling to his. She knew it was adrenaline trying to use her energy for something else, but why couldn't she pick up a random guy and get it out of her system. No – of course the Hermione Granger way was to lust after the one wizard on the planet who infuriated her more than the library trying to make her pay over-due fees.

"Trust, Malfoy, is too big of an ask at the moment." He glanced away when she said this. Was there dismay showing in his eyes? "But, I will take your promise to tell me, if you're willing to give that?"

"What do you think?" Draco sounded more than a little annoyed at her question. Hermione glared at him, he pretended not to notice._ Pompous Arse_.

"So, you've had six years to figure out a game plan, what is it?" Hermione needed space; he was muddling everything in her well ordered brain. She could still smell the shower gel he used. She felt a flush of arousal, _damn shower fantasy_. Would he be as big as she imagined? Mortified, Hermione pushed him back. He looked down at her in surprise for a second before his face hardened.

Draco stepped back away from her, she immediately felt chilled. Toughen up Hermione; you can't have it both ways. She was finding it too hard to stay angry, she was exhausted and her ankle still hurt.

"He's looking for something, two parts of a very important puzzle. Six years ago I thwarted him, managing to steal the very thing he wanted more than anything. Unfortunately what I had is useless by itself. Getting it cost me everything - my freedom, my family, my life."

"What was this thing? Hang on, what do you mean _had_?" Draco looked sheepish, an expression she was shocked to see. Did he actually have more emotions than four? She thought, conceitedness, arrogance, disdainfulness and sinfully sexy was his repertoire.

"It was a transfigured file; but I never managed to transform it into its original form. So I hid it in the Malfoy Manor Vault – just before I disappeared."

Hermione absently felt the file in her pocket. My god, did she actually hold the missing piece with her? If so, they could put them together, go to the authorities with the evidence and regain their lives. Hermione pushed aside the knowledge that once free, they would have nothing to do with each other. Good riddance, the sane part of her brain told her – a hot scene from her fantasy was the insane side of her brains defence. Hermione realised Draco was watching her intensely. It was now or never.

"What if I told you, I knew where this other transfigured file is? Maybe when put with the piece you stole, it will make sense."

Draco continued to stare at her; then he stepped in closer. Merlin, was he was going to kiss her? Her heart hammered in anticipation. He leant in so close to her she could feel the tickle of his fringe on her forehead. Suddenly he grabbed her hips and pulled her against him. Hermione almost blacked out, she could feel his cock, which was slowly growing semi-hard against her. It was better than she imagined. Her lips parted and a soft moan tore from her throat. _Christ_, she needed this, more than anything. It seemed the nervous energy and misspent adrenaline would get used after all.

"Granger." Draco's voice was pure deep huskiness as his lips ghosted over hers. "Don't lie to me."

She jerked still. "What are you talking about?" She tried to remove herself from his embrace, but he held her tighter.

He leant in again and licked her bottom lip slowly; another gasp tore from her throat as she tried to follow him when he moved away. He chuckled in his throat. "Gods, Granger, teasing you turn's into something bigger than A Quidditch World Cup. What I mean is this."

As the last word left his lips he grabbed her hip again, tracing the lines of the file in her jeans. Hermione didn't care at the moment that he knew about her secret. His fingers were perilously close to her pussy. She wriggled slightly to try and alleviate her ache.

Draco stopped his ministrations and stepped away. Hermione thankfully held in her moan of disappointment.

"I warned you before about teasing me. Remember my warning." He walked away to gather himself. Hermione remembered his warning, she recalled it well. Even though Draco was actually the one currently teasing her, she didn't argue the point. Her pussy throbbed just thinking about screaming his name all night. _Stop it,_ she was acting like a lusty school girl – focus on the now, and later – buy a dildo and fantasise. It would be a hell of a lot less complicated.

"Okay, so I _have_ the other file, let's just go get yours from the vault. Easy as." Her voice was still too low and sexy, she coughed.

"We can't. Remember when I said the Manor went into receivership. Well it's now owned by Timothy Pearson."

Hermione groaned in disbelief. "You're bloody kidding me, Timothy Pearson? The head of The Firm's security detail. Great, Fort Knox would be easier to break into."

"Actually, Granger, it might not be too bad. I grew up there - remember. Let's find a place to stay and draw up a plan."

Hermione nodded, and thought staying anywhere in a confined space with Draco was going to be bad. With only a small amount of trepidation and a large dose of misguided lust, she followed him out of the garden to plan their attack.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks again for all the favourites, alerts and reviews. I honestly can't tell you how much they brighten my day! And I love how some of you have been with me through all of my stories – it's very humbling (yet very amazing!) I hope everyone is still enjoying this – it's honestly been a pleasure to write! Oh and it's about to get very interesting! More soon! :D**


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione ducked down the nearest break in the corridore wall, almost stumbling as she spun around the corner. Draco, hot on her heels - pushed her along. Sparks of power tore chunks from the wall as they passed; making plaster rain down around them as they ran. Malfoy Manor was taking a beating.

Hermione dragged Draco forward until they had a clear place to crouch and take stock of their position. Breathing hard, she looked up into Draco's frowning face. She knew in all certainty, he wasn't going to be able to hold his thoughts to himself. Although – when had he ever? Ignoring what was coming for a few seconds more; Hermione aimed the wand into the vast hallway and sent off a shockwave. She hoped it was enough to give them time to find a better place to hide.

"Granger, of all the cock-ups you could possibly do on a mission; you chose to do that. I must say, I'm bloody impressed with the situation you've gotten us into, bloody impressed." He was still scowling; making small lines appear on his forehead; which she in no way found adorable. She figured what he was trying to say was 'he wasn't impressed'.

Hermione glared up at Draco - ignoring the need to yell at him heartily. It was much harder to bottle up she realised, than to have let loose with a tirade. A tirade he would have only smirked at. Seriously, it wasn't _her_ fault the wand she managed to command had a mind of its own. The other two wands wouldn't obey any spells at all, the last one worked – sort of. It managed to heal her – which was a bonus. Although deciding to let out a stream of sparkles just as they snuck up on Timothy's guards; may not have been the wands finest hour.

A masculine yell from further down the hall stopped Hermione's thoughts, galvanising her into motion once more. The guards were just getting warmed up – they needed to hide.

Hermione and Draco ran down another five hallways over two different levels, before halting in-front of a huge black door. She shivered; having no idea where she was in Malfoy Manor – well, Timothy's Manor now she guessed.

"In here." Draco pulled her into one of the biggest rooms she'd ever stood inside. It took Hermione a few seconds to figure out it was a bedroom – the space was that immense. It could have housed all of the Gryffindor girls from years one to seven - comfortably.

"My God. What an absolutely pretentious room. Who in their right mind could live in a maudlin environment like this? It must have been depressing to wake up each morning." Hermione looked in mild distaste at the monstrous wall hanging, which depicted scenes of murder and mayhem. "Classy."

Draco's terse cough made her spin around to look at him. A steely expression graced his proud face. "This was my room."

Hermione's mouth dropped open into a small 'o'. _Crap – not again_. She really shouldn't be so flippant with what she said in regards to the Manor. Hermione was digging herself into a big hole she wasn't sure she could get out of. She'd already offended Draco by mentioning how ghastly the drapes were in the sitting room; his mother had apparently loved them. Mind you, she did get tangled up in their moth-eaten embrace as she tried climbing through the window. She thought she would suffocate.

"Sorry." She managed to say, before he could explode with indignation. He nodded once in acquiescence. Hermione tried and failed at holding what she really thought in. "But, you have to admit - it _is_ atrocious."

Draco's eyes narrowed as he watched her a second, she smiled sheepishly in return. She had to have the last word, it would get her killed – she knew it. Shaking his head, Draco pointed behind her.

"Through there. We need to lay low for half an hour or so." Draco headed for the monolithic hanging. Prising a corner from the wall, she saw there was a small hidden alcove behind it. It looked cramped and more than a little uncomfortable. What was it with Malfoy and tight spaces? She mentally slapped herself for the imagery _that_ thought presented.

"Malfoy." Hermione hissed at his back. "We both can't fit in there."

Draco turned; sardonically raising one eyebrow. "Oh, I know for a fact, Granger; two people can fit quite nicely." He then winked at her whilst a smirk transformed his face from handsome to sexy in seconds.

Oh Merlin, he had brought women back here - to this very niche. It was obvious he'd once used it to have his wicked way with them. A spike of arousal speared her stomach from the knowledge she would soon be squashed in Draco's secret teenage lair with him. She was going to hell; just from her lust induced thoughts – that much was certain.

He slid in first, and when she hesitated as to how exactly she was to fit; he reached out a hand and pulled her in. It was roomier than she first thought, but not by much. A small shelf carved into the stone allowed Draco to half sit and recline back against the wall. But, this proved a problem for her. The only place left to stand was between his legs, almost pressed chest to chest with him. She stood awkwardly for a second, trying not to think of anything at all. The reason - their lips were too close.

Hermione began to squirm uncomfortably; trying to find a good position. One which wouldn't make her cramp; or think of Draco's mouth. Suddenly his hands slapped down onto her buttocks, making her jolt still. It was dark and she couldn't _quite_ capture his expression. She wriggled more to get him to remove his hands. Their current position was making her think of things not related to their mission. It was also making her warm in all the wrong places. Hermione was barely holding onto her self-control.

"Granger." His voice was husky and strained. "I'm warning you to cease and desist all movement, unless you want a _hard_ lesson on correct niche behaviour."

It took all of three seconds for Hermione to work out exactly _why_ she wasn't allowed to move. When she did; her face flamed red and her stomach pulsed in excitement. Was Malfoy really admitting that having her body against his, made him hard? Just to check; she rubbed herself against him - one more time.

A moan started deep in the back of his throat, it was the sexiest admission to lust she had ever heard. The darkness gave Hermione more than her usual courage, and she pushed onto him again. The feel of his entire semi-hard length pressed against her upper thighs was delicious. The alcove didn't allow her what she really craved though; to rub her wetness against him - unhindered.

It was driving her mad – this insatiable need to screw Malfoy. She'd had enough. It was time to take control of it, and if the only control she could gain was by being reckless – so be it. Logic could take a backseat for once.

His breath rushed out against her cheek as she leant in towards him. Her lips captured his in a blazing wet need; as the word 'crazy' reverberated through her mind. The feelings racing through her surprised her in their intensity. They were telling Hermione she had waited an age for this moment – she had denied herself for too long.

There - she admitted it, finally. She wanted him – she wanted him bad. She also wanted him naked and sweaty. Her sensibilities had finally had enough of playing the right part. What better way to shed her inhibitions than with Draco Malfoy, one of the most wanted wizards in England? And by Merlin, did she want him too.

She left his hot wet lips, chasing small open mouthed kisses to his ear. His hands tightened on her arse, making her groan in appreciation. It was something Hermione discovered she enjoyed – immensely. Her small tongue flicked out as she ran it over the shell of his ear. His breath hitched and she grinned. Trailing her warm mouth down onto his neck, he moaned in lust, so she licked lower. Hermione soon discovered seconds later; the piece of skin just above his collar bone was almost as sensitive as his cock appeared to be.

"Granger." Draco groaned unbelievingly against her ear. "For somebody that despises everything I am – you sure have a funny way of showing your displeasure."

"Are you complaining?" She let her tongue wander across to his other side. His grip tightened again, making her squirm.

"No, I most certainly am not. But, I am warning you." His husky voice held a hint of seriousness to it.

Hermione stilled, mouth half open against his neck, tongue poised. "Against what?"

"I warned you what would happen if you didn't stop teasing me. It's been too long, Granger. When we get out of here alive – you're in trouble."

Hermione's heart sped up tenfold, feeling herself get wet at his words. It was all she could do not to moan her approval. When she didn't reply straight away, he stiffened minutely. She realised instantly, that he was as unsure about propositioning her as to how she would respond to it. Smiling against his neck, she nipped his adams apple, eliciting another throaty growl. She had a wicked idea forming, and it needed to be actioned – immediately. Consequences be damned.

"Didn't you know - I'm a trouble magnet? I _love_ trouble – but why wait around for it to find me."

With those words, she manoeuvred her arm between their bodies; squeezing his now fully erect cock. It strained against his jeans, begging for release. Draco was beyond hot, he was scorching. She rubbed him hard; making him jump and moan at the same time. It made her want to perform unspeakable acts on him.

"Granger, I…can't…I won't…last…" His head lolled onto her shoulder as his lips fervently kissed her neck in response to her rubbing. Hermione let her head fall back, enjoying the feeling of his heat on her skin. One of his hands traced small circles on her lower back, while the other still cupped her arse. She shuddered in desire.

Hermione managed to move back a little, so she had more room. Undoing his button fly, she snaked her hand into his trousers. She almost passed out when she found he wore no briefs. His cock was silky and hard as rock as she stroked him from base to tip. He shuddered against her shoulder, moaning her name quietly. Lust pierced her pussy, Draco was out of his mind in desire – and she loved it.

Pre-come already coated the tip of his dick; and she used the moisture to rub around his tight hole. His teeth bit into her, and she threw her head back trying not to cry out. Hermione realised she, herself, might come from just touching his sleek cock. Draco began to mindlessly rub and knead her buttocks, which in turn sent tingles through her entire body. Merlin, she couldn't help imagine what it would feel like if they had room to do as they pleased. The thought of complete control made her hand constrict around him. He jumped, so she began to fist him slowly – up and down, tightening and loosening her grip as she went.

She needed more lubrication – she couldn't get the angle and speed she craved. Moving slightly, she felt the ground around them with her foot. Pleasure filled her when she realised she had more room than first thought. Letting go of his prick, she grasped the waistband of his jeans and managed to pull them straight over his arse; so they pooled around his ankles. She stood back up quickly, and grasped him firmly once more.

"Huh…what…" Draco's unintelligent response made her silence him with another open-mouthed kiss. God – she liked an 'out of it' Malfoy. He was so much hotter when vulnerable. He pushed his tongue into her mouth violently as her hands regained their previous tempo. She squeezed hard and bit his bottom lip, smiling. "My…god….Granger…"

Before he could figure her plan out, she dropped to her knees; engulfing him in one fluid motion. He just about arched his cock through the roof of her mouth in surprise. His breathy 'fuck' was lost as she began to lick him all over like a favourite ice-cream on a hot day. She didn't leave an inch dry of her saliva. His hands found their way to her head, loosely holding her in position. Thankfully he didn't try to dictate speed; he let Hermione choose her own pace. Which she could tell - was driving him insane.

Hermione grabbed the base of his cock with one hand as she continued to lathe him. Pressing her thumb against the thick vein which ran up the underside of it, she proceeded to jerk him off whilst simultaneously sucking on the weeping head of his prick.

His hips jerked wildly for a moment, her name almost sounding like a mantra above her. Then he found his rhythm. Once found – he was a lost cause. His entire body stiffened as he spurted hot seed down her throat. Hermione swallowed greedily. She had always loved having a man come undone around her – the sense of power over them was unparallel. Mumbling lost words incoherently, he massaged her head as she sucked and licked the last of the saltiness from him.

She didn't even get time to catch her breath before Draco yanked her back up to his height. One of his hands curled around her head, cupping her ear – he said nothing for a moment, just stared. Hermione had no idea what expression covered his features, it was too dark.

"Granger…that was…" He pulled her tight against him, warm lips crashing down onto hers. He proceeded to kiss the living daylights out of her, not caring that it was his salty taste on her lips. "Phenomenal." He finished.

She grinned in spite of herself, she knew exactly how hot it was – she could feel it in her underwear. Before she could move to let him adjust himself, Draco grabbed her arse and lifted her onto his lap. She found herself positioned with her knees resting on the shelf, one each side of his hips. The pose opened her legs wide, and she was certain he could smell her excitement. He pushed her torso backwards until her shoulders hit the wall behind her. What was he doing? She felt completely exposed.

Deftly his hands undid her jeans, pushing the two ends as far apart as he could. Her panties were soaked and the smell of her arousal permeated the small space. It was erotic as hell. Hermione moaned without even realising the sound was erupting from her throat. Maybe she was just as out of control as Draco when stimulated.

Suddenly his fingers dipped into her underwear. She cried out softly as he slid a digit over her tight clit. She was going to blow within seconds; never having been so turned on in her life. He moved slightly and changed positions so that his calloused thumb pushed against her nub. Hermione gasped at the rough contact, it was sweet agony – she wanted, no, needed more friction. In retaliation to her wantonness, he began to move it up and down - slowly. She writhed on him, feeling his cock twitch in interest under her arse. Christ, he was astonishing.

Arching her back against the wall, Hermione allowed herself to drift off in the feelings Draco was extracting from her body. She didn't worry about anything, except the sensation of his hand in her underwear. His stroking became faster as he pushed hard against her clit. Just when she thought she would fall off the precipice, he stopped. Her breathless pants were loud in the niche, making her aware of how wanton she really was. Before she could say anything to ruin the moment, his thumb delved deeper; inserting itself into her tight pussy. She cried out unintentionally.

"I heard you, Granger. That night." His voice was almost too distant for her to respond, she was lost in the sensations.

"What night." She absently whispered.

"The night you cried my name out in the shower. I almost broke the door down and fucked you on the tiled floor. I've never had to control myself to such a degree before. I was so hard it hurt." His voice lowered a register, and the deepness of it thrummed through her.

"Fuck….Draco…" She heard him chuckle, and had a split second to wonder why; before he slid his thumb up and in further. _Christ_; her back would surely break from arching Hermione thought wildly. She started to moan loudly, telling him in small gasps how good it felt. Then before she knew it, he was back at her nub pressing down.

"Why _didn't_ you come in?" Her voice cracked as his thumb stroked her. Hermione wasn't even sure why she was still talking. Somehow speaking out loud about screwing each other; made her hornier than ever. She wanted him – all of him.

"I didn't, because I like my balls where they are. You would have hexed them to hell and back if I came in." His lips tilted in a smile, which she could barely make out in the gloom.

"Maybe…maybe not. I've wanted you inside of me for a long time." Draco stilled. Her mind screamed at her to 'stop all talk'. She was saying things she didn't want him to know – hell, she was saying things she wouldn't even admit to herself yet. Then he resumed teasing her clit, his fingers deft and experienced. All coherent thoughts fled.

"Why didn't you say….I never….shit. Granger - look at me…" Draco's husky voice brought her momentarily from the edge of insanity.

It was dark, but she found see could make out the shining of his eyes. He must have been able to see her face from the light being let in through a crack in the wall hanging. The idea of Draco seeing her facial expressions and her not being able to see his, made her body twitch. He flicked her clit slowly – once, twice. Her eyes shuddered closed as she groaned; she was so close to losing it.

"I said – look at me." Hermione felt her orgasm approaching fast, just from his demand.

She tried not to disobey him, so through hooded eyes she stared at his partially hidden face. Draco shoved his thumb straight back into her tight pussy. Merlin, it was no good – she would have to shut her eyes. She didn't want to though; she wanted to give Malfoy exactly what he asked for.

His other fingers tickled her clit as he slowly fucked her with his thumb. Hermione craved more girth, more fingers, more something. What she really wanted, if she admitted it - was his hard cock inside of her. Unfortunately, their current cramped position dictated what they could do. As the familiar tingles and moans began to escape her mouth, Draco once again began to rub her tight little clit. Just as she began to shudder in his arms his other hand came up, and pinched a nipple through her shirt. It was all she needed. White blinding light hit her as she rode out her orgasm – eyes wide open, staring into Draco's face.

She sat on his taut thighs for a moment, letting the crazy sensations subside naturally. They had done it – well almost. They had stepped over the hidden boundary between them. There was no turning back now. Strangely, Hermione felt as if a burden had been lifted. The sexual tension between them had finally been answered. She had to sweep aside the small voice in her head which started to tell her it would never happen again, because it was out of their systems now. If anything, the small taste of what Draco could offer her sexually, made her crave more - and this could never be a good thing. Even though she was working with him now quite amicably – would it last? They had to clear their names first, and what if Malfoy _had_ lied to her? What if he wasn't as innocent as he portrayed himself to be?

A noise from outside in the room, made her freeze. Draco curled an arm around her back protectively as the guards searched for them. She was certain they would remain hidden in the alcove, yet her heartbeat still thudded. Hermione couldn't imagine what they would have discovered if they had come in five minutes earlier. After what felt like an eternity the door closed, and they were left alone.

"Granger? You do realise what just happened don't you?"

Face burning red, she wondered where this conversation was going to lead them. "I'm not stupid, I have a fair idea."

"No, not that." She heard the suppressed laugh in his voice, and frowned. "For the first time ever – in all the years I have known you, you swore."

"I did not, Malfoy. I don't swear." She tried casting her mind back and froze in mortification. He felt her stiffen and chuckled deeply. Her body responded.

"Don't be embarrassed – it inspires me to make you swear some more." His breath tickled her cheek, _she had to move_. Sliding ungracefully from his lap, Hermione did her pants up quickly and snuck a look from behind the hanging. Nobody was in the room.

She let herself out of the musty space, glad to have fresh air which wasn't tinged with sex - their sex. _Merlin_, Hermione palmed her face. She was sure going to have a hard time justifying this to herself later on. Temporary insanity might work.

Okay, Hermione knew he was gorgeous, and she also knew she'd had a ridiculous crush on him years ago. But, she also knew he fled when things got tough, and he could betray someone at the drop of a hat. Even if by all accounts it appeared unintentional.

The noise of Draco exiting the hanging made her look back at him. Her stomach clenched wildly. His blonde hair was mussed from her hands running through it, and he had a thoroughly naughty smirk in place. How did he manage to make his grey eyes twinkle so mischievously? She had to confess - Draco was absolutely breathtaking; and she couldn't help but feel she was losing a part of herself to him.

"Right lets go." Hermione's voice came out abruptly. She didn't want to think on feelings at the moment. She couldn't afford to. There were so many things left unsaid – too many secrets, and she knew a Malfoy couldn't be trusted. Then why did she so desperately want to trust this one, when she knew it was futile?

Draco led her out into the hallway while she tucked the wand into the back of her jeans – it was useless anyway. Running down the vast corridore, Hermione caught glimpses of a privileged life she could only imagine. She highly doubted Timothy had changed anything – except maybe a few superficial facelifts. She had seen a new wide screen TV in the kitchen downstairs. Draco led her to the service stairwell and they softly padded downstairs. Draco had already explained that the vault was hidden below the servants' quarters. A strange place for a room full of riches, yet it had been there for hundreds of years, and lucky for them – easily accessible.

They'd just rounded the last corner when an open doorway stopped Hermione in her tracks. Draco's attempts at tugging her forward lost all motivation once he saw what she was staring at.

"Camille." Hermione's voice cracked at what sat before her now teary eyes.

Draco leapt into action, grabbing Hermione's shoulder. He literally picked her prone body up and heaved her aside to another doorway. She made no move to stop him; she was in too much shock.

He shut the door behind him with a soft click. "Hermione, we have to get to the vault." His whispered voice broke through her paralysis.

"No, Malfoy – I have to save her." She tried moving him, but he stayed in position – blocking her way. She hit him on the chest once, frustrated at his lack of movement. "Get out of my way, you Pillock, that's my partner – my friend."

Draco grabbed her forearms in his tight grip, and leant into her. "You don't think I don't know that." He released one of her arms and ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Our mission is to get the second file. Then we save her – if we can."

Hermione looked incredulously up at him. "If…we…can? I am not leaving her here. End of story. Did we see the same woman? She was tied to a chair – face black and blue, almost beyond recognition. I am not leaving her so Timothy or Franklin or whoever is behind this can beat her senseless again."

"Christ, Granger. I may be a bastard, but I'm not a fucking bastard. Sometimes I wonder what you see when you look at me." His eyes bored into hers, and she just glared in return. He sighed sadly, and swore under his breath. "I meant; _if_ we can – it's obviously a trap; we have to think it through properly. Of course we aren't leaving without her. Seriously, you have no faith in me at all."

"Do you blame me?" The words had escaped before she could think on them. The pained look in his eyes made her wish she could snatch them from the air – never to be uttered.

Draco shut his eyes against her, and when he opened them, they were as hard as stone. Hermione couldn't help but wonder what part of their fragile truce she had broken into a million pieces with one crass remark.

"Right – you want to call the shots – fine. We'll do it your way. The vault is down this way. I'll get the file – you stay alive long enough and get Camille." He dropped his hand from her shoulder and stepped aside. She felt the cold prickle up on her from the loss of his warm hand. She grabbed the door knob and twisted it. Before she went through, she stopped and stared up into Draco's cold eyes, knowing she couldn't leave him like this.

"For what its worth; I do trust you." Before he could respond, Hermione slipped out into the corridore. She didn't want to see his face; she didn't want to see any rejection - not when they had come so far. She was stupidly in the habit of thinking the worst when it came to Draco. She had to start letting go of it.

Standing with her back against the door, she closed her eyes for a second and exhaled slowly. Too much had happened in the space of a few days, and her brain hadn't caught up. What was this thing with Malfoy, was it lust, was it more? Could it be any more, or had too much happened in their pasts for her to overcome?

Hermione felt a presence in the hallway with her, and before she could scream out to Draco, Timothy had stunned her. She fell to the ground in a blanket of black.

* * *

**A/N: Hey everyone - well I hoped you liked this chapter, it was a little different *read smutty*. They were driving me crazy so I had to relieve some tension! :) Thanks again go out to all the beautiful people who review for me - you are all ace - beyond ace actually! And also thanks once again to all the alerts and favourites - still gives me a stupid grin :) Well five chapters down - five to go! I haven't finished playing with them quite yet! :D (oh and sorry for the cliff-hanger...unfortunately it's not the last one...) *cue evil laugh***


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione groggily opened her eyes; pain flaring momentarily in her left temple. Intense white light greeted her, making her wince; so she shut them again almost instantly. Moaning she tried to move; but found herself tied up, feet and hands to a chair. _Crap._ She then remembered Timothy's gleeful look as she stood in the corridore. How stupid was she? Blatantly standing there thinking about Malfoy, when what she should have been doing was her job. She deserved to be caught. But the smack to the head was uncalled for.

"Ms Granger; so nice to see you awake." Franklin's deep drawl ensured her eyes snapped open, and stay open this time.

Timothy stood to one side watching her with slitted eyes; the perfect subordinate. She glared up at them both; then spat. She felt smug satisfaction watching her saliva slide down Franklin's cheek; until Timothy hit her across the face. Pain ricocheted through her head, but the sting was worth it. She tried struggling again, yet her bindings didn't give an inch. Things were not looking particularly good.

"So, Mr Malfoy has enlightened you with his side of the situation then, has he?" Franklin took a pristine white linen hanker-chief from his pocket, and proceeded to wipe her spit from his face. He was still dressed in his expensive suit; she hoped she would get the chance to rip it later – whilst slamming his face into the ground.

"You're a traitor to the country, to the wizarding world, and to me." Hermione was dismayed to hear her voice crack on the last word. She had thought the world of Franklin. Beside's Marcus, he was the one she looked up to for guidance. It was heartbreaking to have been betrayed - once again. She began to wonder if she had a neon sign on her forehead which read 'gullible'_._

"Yes, but so are _you,_ my dear." Franklin gave her a smile which would have looked perfectly at home on a coyote who was about to attack his prey.

"Not by intention, no-one in the tribunal would believe I willingly stole documents for other governments." Hermione's chest heaved with the conviction she placed on her words.

Franklin just smiled at her; then walked over to Timothy. They spoke in hushed voices for a moment; frustratingly she couldn't make out any words. Looking around she noticed she was in a medium sized room, and Camille was nowhere in sight. Hermione needed to get loose and find her. She also wondered whether Draco had managed to retrieve the second file. Now she was caught, Hermione was glad he'd insisted on leaving her file at the hotel. She didn't want to leave something so important in a hotel safe, but in hindsight it was the best place for it. No-one knew they had stayed there.

Timothy left the room a second later, a steely expression in his eyes. Hermione wondered where he was going; hoping it wasn't to finish Camille off. Before she could put a plan into thought, Franklin spun back towards her. Pulling up a chair, he pushed it against her knees and straddled it; then leant in. This brought his face inches away from hers. It took all of her willpower not to flinch away from him. He didn't deserve a reaction of any kind, yet it was hard to stay still.

"Everyone _will_ believe it. I have been working on this for eight years now. Do you not think; that this was all part of my plan?" His eyes narrowed and he leant in even closer to her. For a panicked moment, Hermione thought he was going to kiss her. Thankfully he just sneered instead, he was trying to intimidate her – it was working. "The last puzzle piece is about to fall into place. When it does – you will die, and you will die a traitor to your country."

Hermione gasped at his words. Her mind went into over-drive, trying to figure out what exactly Franklin was trying to achieve. For once in her life she came up completely blank. Not one thing she could think of would warrant such an elaborate set-up.

"Why?" Is all she managed to articulate through dry lips.

"Why else, Miss Granger? For money and power of course." Franklin stalled and smiled slyly at her, making her skin crawl. "Did I mention - it's a _lot_ of money?"

"So you would frame innocent witches and wizards and kill countless others, just for riches?"

"Yes, though not everyone is as innocent as you think." He arched an eyebrow at her and chuckled when she frowned. "I believe you need to have a small chat with one Draco Malfoy before you condemn me into being the only bad guy in this piece."

"Tell me then." Hermione ground out. She had managed to loosen the ties on her hands slightly. Twisting her little finger she slipped it through the binding. She should be able to get a hand free soon. Her heart hammered hard in her chest; adrenaline, disbelief and hurt kick-starting her survival instinct.

"Oh no, I will not tell another's secrets. I'll give you one clue though; ask him about Marcus's death."

Hermione stopped her wriggling; what did Malfoy have to do with Marcus? She was instantly transported back to the small bedroom where she held Marcus as he died. He had whispered Draco's name, hadn't he? Was he trying to tell her who was responsible? No, she wouldn't believe Franklin's lies. Marcus had said it was a creature, didn't he? Or was he that pained and disorientated, that a small glamour would have worked on him? Draco had also suspiciously turned up moments later. Crap, this is exactly what Franklin wanted – doubt. She pushed it aside, noticing that it didn't disappear, it stayed close.

Franklin, knowing he had obtained his objective slid the chair back and stood in one motion. Looking down at her he smiled lazily. "I always thought you to be very smart, Hermione. However, I managed to pull the wool over your eyes for six years. You were a very competent double agent; Shade was impressed with your good work. Don't despair, your involvement only cost the lives of no more than thirty people."

Red filled Hermione's vision; there was nothing left but blind hatred for the man standing in-front of her. With a war cry to rival any tribesman she leapt to her feet; the chair legs snapping in her anger. Vaguely, Hermione felt thankful they had placed her on an old worn creaky seat.

Franklin's face was comically surprised as she leapt for him. Rope burned her wrist as it tightened - she hardly noticed. Hermione wanted to see Franklin in pain – needed to see him hurt for what he had done to her and the other's she'd loved.

Slamming herself into his chest, she heard Franklin's grunt as he lost his balance. Hermione ripped her left hand out of the bindings; making a sharp burn run up her arm. She knew a few layers of skin had been sacrificed, but didn't care. All she cared about was the pain she could inflict on Franklin. Hers was secondary.

Hermione felt her nails dig into the soft skin of his cheek, his roar of pain filled her head. She smiled at the sound; it was music to her ears. Franklin managed to get his leg up high, and kicked Hermione off of him. She flew backwards, but managed to right herself almost instantly. She truly adored the rush of a fist fight. This one was much more intense though - due to the hatred of Franklin burning through her.

Taking a step forward, Hermione pulled back her arm quickly, and punched Franklin square in the stomach. He doubled over almost immediately, so she slammed her elbow onto the back of his neck. Before she could aim her knee into Franklin's nose, the hard point of a wand pressed into her back. Growling, she took a step away.

Timothy stood behind her; a feral look rivalling hers overtook his features. She didn't even hear him come back into the room – her focus was so intent on Franklin. Hermione spun to the left fast enough to startle him, and ended up standing behind him; but he was quick. He threw his elbow backwards, catching her off guard and hitting her in the ribs. She heard a sickening crack then felt a sharp piercing pain flash through her chest. He'd broken a rib – or more. Taking a huge breath in, Hermione found her lungs not punctured; she could still breathe. She was good to take him on. Placing the hurt in a deep recess of her mind, she punched Timothy in the kidneys as hard as she could. She lacked strength due to her busted ribs, but he still grunted and staggered a little.

Franklin was still flailing around on the ground, holding his neck. She must have put more power than she realised into it. Smirking with pleasure, she missed Timothy's next move.

Within an instant Hermione was flat on her back, a wand pressed menacingly into her neck. Trying to swallow she found, was more difficult than breathing. Timothy looked down at her, his eyes resembling a demon. There was an edge of crazy in them which she couldn't look away from. She knew she couldn't kick him off – he was just too big.

"You think you're so good. You're pathetic." Timothy spat at her, making her flinch. "Even Isabelle put up more of a fight."

Hermione blanched. Timothy had killed Isabelle – the next logical conclusion was that he also killed Marcus. Hermione put everything into trying to get free. She writhed like a mad woman, spat, yelled and bucked, he didn't move an inch. Instead he just pressed a hand onto her sternum and pushed. The bastard knew he'd hurt her before. Hermione gurgled in agony – her lungs were about to explode.

Next minute, Timothy was flung from her body as if a huge bird had picked him up and spirited him away. He slumped in the corner – knocked completely out. Grasping her ribs in one hand she looked up and saw Draco striding towards her – a wand clasped in his fingers. Kneeling next to her he tenderly cupped her head.

"Are you okay?" His eyes searched her face, wincing when he saw the bruise she knew must have formed within the last few minutes. She couldn't help but wonder if her cheek was broken too - it hurt that much. He shook her slightly when she didn't answer.

"My ribs, arms and face." He looked mortified, so she smiled – then grimaced when her chest pulsed in sharp pain. "I'm okay; a healing charm should cover it; if we ever find a wand which works."

Draco grinned and held up the wand in his hand. "I found it in the vault – it was one my father confiscated when I was fifteen. I just bought another at Ollivanders. I forgot all about it."

"Isn't this sweet? Don't move a muscle, Mr Malfoy. I have a wand trained at your back. Move an inch and you lose your head." Franklin cautiously climbed to his feet, rubbing his neck. "This is too perfect, you're both here. I wasn't going to action my plan just yet – but opportunities like this are rare. And if I'm anything, it's resourceful."

"Franklin." Draco's voice was as cold as ice, and dripped in venom. "Your beef is with me – let Granger go."

"I don't believe so. I think she deserves to hear what you've done – how you got her into this mess in the first place."

Hermione's eyes drifted between the two of them. Draco looked white as a sheet and Franklin was way too smug. An ache filled her chest – and it had nothing to do with her ribs. Draco looked around and straight into her eyes. The startling deep silver made his face appear even paler.

"Granger, whatever he say's. Remember I'm your partner – you just need to trust me." His eyes almost pleaded with her. She swung her gaze back to Franklin, he was smiling broadly. C_hrist_, this had a foreboding feeling, and she wanted to stop it.

"Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy." Franklin mocked. "You're not her partner – Camille is. You're the one who removed Camille from the equation so Granger had to go to extreme measures to garner help."

Wide eyed, Hermione snapped her gaze back to Draco's face. The look on it told her everything she needed to know. "_You_ kidnapped Camille?" Her voice was quiet in the room.

"Hermione, not exactly - I didn't hurt her – I swear. I don't know how she ended up here." His fist grabbed her forearm and squeezed, trying to convey his thoughts. She wasn't listening to his body language. She ripped her sore wrist from his touch. Draco's eyes shut momentarily; then he spun on Franklin.

"Tell the truth you fucking arsehole. Tell her I did it for her own good – tell her why it was necessary." Draco's voice bellowed in its ferociousness.

She didn't want to hear anymore, her heart was shattering into nothingness. She felt numb and destroyed. She had trusted him against her own gut feeling – and now it seemed everything she had thought of him was true. Tears prickled, yet she refused to let them fall. Her feelings for Malfoy had grown – grown into something she dared not name yet. Now the sharp dig of deceit replaced it. He deserved an Academy Award for his performance. She had truly believed him and his protestations of innocence.

"The truth…well, that's a concept your unfamiliar with, isn't it, Draco? How long have you been on the run for? How long have lies and deceit been your only friends?" Franklin's voice still mocked; Hermione was hardly listening. She was just trying to breathe normally.

"You're the monster here, Franklin, not me. No matter what you get Granger to believe, everything I have done is for her greater good. To protect her, keep her safe…" Draco trailed off as she grabbed his wrist tightly.

"What about Marcus?" Hermione had no idea why she wanted to know. She was addled in the head obviously. Ignoring the look of glee from Franklin, she gazed up into Draco's lying face.

She had never seen someone so pallid - so hesitant. It made her stomach drop even further. Franklin's laugh resounded around them, making her feel foolish and bereft.

"Yes, Draco, tell her how you killed him for the file. The file you couldn't retrieve because Hermione showed up. Although it didn't matter much did it? In the end you managed to come up with a better plan. Help her escape, then earn her trust and steal it from her."

Hermione stared into Draco's eyes for the longest moment. She saw a glimmer of denial, but before she knew it, he'd shut his grey eyes against her and sighed, shoulders sagging. She almost vomited; bile burned the back of her throat.

Draco didn't say a single word to exonerate himself. He said nothing, just sat on his haunches in-front of her, watching her closely. Inching away from him, Hermione tried standing. She wheezed against her broken ribs, Draco leant forward to help her and she flinched from his touch. His hands dropped heavily back to his sides. She couldn't even meet his eyes. She didn't want to see any more lies.

Franklin could have killed them by now, a hundred times over. But for some sick reason, he was egging them on; why she didn't know. Maybe he liked playing with his prey before devouring them.

Before Hermione could blink, Draco bellowed out at the top of his lungs; throwing himself at Franklin. Sparks flew every-which way as curses were bandied about, each wand trying to aim for the other. One spell hit the overhead light and the room was plunged into darkness. Sparks of blue and green danced off the white walls. It was now or never. Hermione found the door and fled, leaving Draco to his fate with Franklin. She pushed aside the voice of reason which knocked on her conscience. It demanded she help Draco, even after all she'd learnt about him. Her conscience was easy to ignore – her heart was a different story.

Luck was finally shining down on her, and it only took four doorways until she found a groggy, yet awake Camille. Running to the chair she untied her partner.

"Hermione, what, why…where the hell am I?" Camille's voice was no more than a whisper, Hermione then saw a line of bruising across her throat. Clenching her fists, she knew she desperately needed to hit somebody – and soon.

"Shhh honey, I'll explain everything later. I need to get you out of here. Malfoy kidnapped you and I'm here to save you." Hermione felt tears finally well. Wiping her eyes quickly she pulled Camille to her feet. How she was supposed to get a semi-conscious woman out of a stronghold was beginning to look like a problem.

"Malfoy…as in Draco…no he didn't do..."

"It's okay Camille. Later." Hermione cut her off. She couldn't explain what had happened. Not now, and not without losing it. "Follow me, can you walk?"

Camille nodded; then winked. "I think I could manage to smoke a few bad guys even."

Hermione smiled and almost laughed, until her ribs flared up again. Grabbing Camille's hand she pulled her into the hallway. Run-walking most of the way proved a good plan; they saw nobody – until they reached the garden.

Out of nowhere a masked man ran straight for them. Hermione pushed Camille behind her and looked wildly around for anything she could use for a weapon. Spying a rake a few metres away, she made a beeline for it. The guard caught her before she could grab it. Thankfully he didn't know about her injury. They each landed a few good blows on each other, Hermione managing to keep the fight on her right side, the one furthest from her wrist and ribs.

Within a second Camille was behind the guard, brandishing a huge pot-plant. How she picked it up was a feat in itself, let alone in her weakened condition. Camille smashed it against the man's skull; he dropped to his knees, so Hermione kicked him in the back. He fell and stayed down. They got one smile in to each other, before another two guards ran them down.

"Shit…Camille, left side – now!" Hermione's voice echoed off the verandah they were under. She saw Camille following her order.

Camille flew out and past one of the guards. She managed to run up the wall of the Manor for three steps, then swung back around kicking him in the face. Hermione almost stopped to gasp at the move – she would never underestimate adrenaline again. They had practised the move in the gym at The Firm, but never had it been utilised. The second guy kicked out and swept Hermione from her feet. The breath left her sore lungs in a rush, but she rolled to the side before his boot came down – just where her chest was. She didn't want to imagine the pain if he had of connected.

Hermione spun herself up onto her knees and punched out, hitting her attacker in the groin. She smile wryly, it was a dirty tactic, yet had worked twice this week. She may need to rethink her morals. He fell heavily – grasping his boys tightly and groaning.

Grabbing Camille's proffered hand, Hermione stood up. She noticed the slight hitch in her breathing straight away, it was getting worse. Her entire body screamed at her, it was ready to collapse in on itself.

"I know a way off the property, grab any wands these bozo's have, and let's go." They enlightened their attackers of weapons and fled across the expansive grounds.

Thankfully, Hermione didn't have any time to think about what might have happened to Draco. Her every step pained her greatly and half dragging a now exhausted Camille; began to take its toll. Grimly she hoped that Timothy hadn't installed a group of dogs on his property. If she heard a call of 'release the dog's' she'd just fall to her knees and wait for them.

They soon found the small hole in the fence which she and Draco came through. It wasn't hooked up to the magical security system, they'd get out undetected. Camille stood for a second holding her stomach.

"God, I'm unfit – I have a stitch…" Her voice trailed into nothing as she hit the ground in an exhausted faint.

For the second time that night, Hermione really wanted to yell out a swear word. But, the thought of why she'd sworn in the first place was like a slap of cold water on her face. She had let Draco… no, now was escape time – regret and self-loathing could come later.

Hefting Camille up into a sitting position, Hermione grabbed a wand and hoped like hell it would Apparate them to the hotel – she had to get the file before Draco or Franklin.

Within a minute they were in the small modest room; Hermione looked at Draco's rumpled bed; then at her neatly made one. They were chalk and cheese; there was no way it would've worked out – even if he wasn't a lying, murdering son of a bitch. Swallowing the suddenly ever constant lump in her throat, she headed over to the wall safe.

The combination was a simple one - they'd decided to use their first mission date. The door swung open and Hermione was looking into an empty chasm. Dropping her head into her hands took up the next minute of her life, as she counted her breaths – in and out. She then looked back at the unconscious form of Camille propped up at the end of one of the beds. _At least she had her partner and best friend back_. Although she was eternally grateful for her safe return, the loss of the file still left a sour taste in Hermione's mouth.

Draco must have escaped Franklin, and beaten them back to the hotel moments earlier. The thought he may still be around spurred her into action.

Grabbing her measly amount of belongings in a worn rucksack, she grasped Camille's arm and Apparated them to a small bed and breakfast Hermione had used when in a bind. The owners, Poppy and Graeme knew her parents well and never asked questions about their sometimes scruffy daughter. They were like a second family she could always depend on. The Firm had no idea of their existence.

Thankfully Poppy was still up, she took one look at the bruised and battered bodies of the two women and immediately pulled them into the warmth of her home. Poppy knew better than to ask any questions, though Hermione saw them burning in her eyes. She owed so much to this family, and gave hardly anything in return. One day she vowed, she would do something to rectify the situation.

Hermione ensured Camille was taken care of first. She was almost a dead weight, yet Poppy and herself managed to bathe her and dress her in a long cotton nightgown, before placing her on a soft bed. Poppy fussed over her a moment before turning a critical eye on Hermione.

"Can I get you anything, Hermione?" Poppy's face was full of understanding and affection. It was proving too much for Hermione to take at the moment.

"No thankyou, you've done wonders, I'll just shower. I'll see you down at breakfast." Hermione's voice didn't waver in the slightest, and she was proud of her resilience. Poppy smiled and left her alone; promising the breakfast of kings. Hermione tiptoed over to the bed and took a moment to watch the steady breathing Camille emitted. She was thankful beyond belief her best friend was still alive.

Walking over to her small rucksack, she pulled out a clean t-shirt and saw something fall to the floor. For a split second she thought it was the file, it was the same shape and size. Yet, on closer inspection she saw it was the miniaturised version of _Hogwarts A History_ she'd taken from Spud's. Hermione thought she'd lost it in the scuffle at the alley. Draco must have picked it up and slipped it in her bag, knowing how much she'd wanted it. Dropping it back onto the bag, she grabbed her toiletries.

Stoically she made her way to the bathroom, not stumbling once. Opening the door she snuck inside and clicked it shut; then locked it behind her. Leaning against the oak door, she allowed herself the concession of sliding down onto the floor – exhausted beyond anything she'd ever felt. Only then, once alone, did she allow herself to cry – only then did she allow herself to feel.

* * *

**A/N: Don't hate me *ducks for cover*. The story sort of wrote itself for me - and I think I said it may get a little angsty in my first lot of chapter notes. Anyway - I hope you all still enjoyed this latest offering! Once again I had a ball writing it. I give my deepest gratitude to those of you who have read, favourited and alerted! And a huge extra special thanks (with hugs) to you wonderful amazing people who review for me and never cease to amaze me with the wonderful comments and encouragement! You are all beyond beautiful! And never fear - the story is not finished yet...**


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione stood in-front of her opponent, sizing up exactly where to strike next. Feigning to the left then spinning around to her right, she jumped high and caught them on the chest with the back of her foot. Adrenaline kept her going, and she hunched down sweeping her leg around in a wide arc. The dummy fell to the floor with a resounding 'whack'. Hermione stood up and looked around the gym; it was early – too early. Sleep was never going to come, so Hermione decided to slip down to the local gym and use some of her nervous energy. The wand she had taken from the guard had proved adequate at healing; plus, it was too late in the game to feel bad for using a stolen wand.

It wasn't the first time she'd found herself sweating out all emotions caused by Draco Malfoy. Six years previously after being released from Azkaban, Hermione had joined a gym. It was the only thing which kept her sane. She could lose herself in structured classes, or egg herself on to lift more weights. There was no thinking involved, just doing.

Picking up her sodden towel, Hermione headed to the punching bag. She was exhausted, yet knew sleep would still elude her if she returned to Poppy's. Lifting her damp tank-top away from her skin a second, she guzzled a bottle of water; then took up a stance.

As she pounded away at the black bag, she couldn't help but wonder what was going on between Draco and Franklin. Were they working together? Hermione instantly knew they weren't – why she was so certain when everything else seemed to be unsure – she couldn't say. Just if she looked at it logically it didn't seem feasible. She had somehow begun to lose sight of logic in this whole debacle. It was one of the only things in her life which didn't let her down – her brains ability to work things out. If she thought back onto the previous night, it felt almost as if Franklin was trying to goad Draco into snapping – not imply they were working together.

So, if they weren't working together, why did Malfoy kidnap Camille and kill…Hermione couldn't even finish the thought. This in turn made her feel like a child – if she didn't say it - it wouldn't be true. One thing was certain though; Draco's hatred for Franklin. She felt it burn through the room. On the heels of these thoughts came the one she didn't want; what had happened after she left the fight? Was Franklin still alive, was Draco hurt? She didn't like the traitorous way her stomach heaved at the thought of Draco injured.

Hermione dropped her hands from the bag, and leant into its hardness, letting it take her weight. How did things go so horribly wrong? How did she allow herself to get into this situation in the first place? And how much of what Draco told her was lies?

Punching into the bag one last time, Hermione walked over to her belongings and sat up against the wall for a minute, trying to cool down and gain some much needed clarity.

What did she know in all certainty? For one, Franklin was a double agent and was using her unwittingly to steal information for Shade, a corporation she'd never heard of. Two, she was most certainly on the run, from who she wasn't too sure about. Originally she thought the entire force of The Firm were after her. Since then, only a few strange wizards along with Franklin and Timothy were the only stand outs. So who exactly was she running from? And three, Draco most certainly had the file from the hotel room.

She also knew that Draco was a lying scumbag who didn't deserve a second thought, yet he always managed to get a third and fourth thought spent on him. Hermione sighed exasperatedly; was he really capable of killing Marcus - a boy he went to Hogwarts with, and someone whom he'd stayed mates with afterwards. It seemed wrong; the whole scenario seemed off somehow.

Also, why would Draco help her escape? He couldn't have known for certain she had the file in the first place. It was a pretty big gamble on his behalf if that was the case. He could have overpowered her at any stage to obtain what he wanted. Draco also appeared earnest in helping her clear both of their names; sounding almost wistful when speaking of being free and not on the run.

Hermione didn't want to think anymore, it wasn't getting her anywhere except creating more questions. Although one scene from the previous night haunted her, Draco's pleading eyes and his whispered 'trust me'. Her chest clenched slightly at the thought she may have misjudged him. But how could she though; when the truth and lies seemed to be all tangled in the same web of deceit?

"Hermione." Camille's voice broke her circling thoughts, and she rose from the wall. "Working out again, what's wrong?"

Hermione had no idea where to start; she had to fill Camille in on what had happened over the last week. The task seemed monumental, so she decided to tell the short version - the one which just happened to leave out anything to do with feelings for Malfoy.

"Let's grab a coffee."

Camille shook her head and smiled. "Hermione, your love affair with caffeine; will keep you up all night."

Hermione knew it wasn't the coffee which made her sleepless, it was Draco Malfoy. He had been creating sleepless nights for years now, and somehow she knew it wasn't over yet.

An hour and a half, three coffees and two chocolate éclairs later, Camille sat in-front of Hermione wide-eyed. Draining the last dregs in her glass, Hermione waited for it to all process.

"Wait a minute, are you trying to tell me, Draco killed Marcus for some file?" Hermione nodded. "No way, just - no way, Hermione. I might have only known Draco for a few months before he disappeared off the grid, but - no way. Marcus and he were great friends."

"Don't forget, Cam, the reason he was on the run in the first place, is because he was accused of murdering those operatives in Romania."

"Bullshit, I never believe that in the first place. He was set up; he wouldn't be the first person to take a bullet for political gain."

Camille's blunt response surprised Hermione. She had no idea her partner thought that way. To be honest, she had no idea what Camille thought about the entire Draco Malfoy saga. Hermione had refused to speak of Draco when they had first been paired off. Camille had never pushed or asked any questions, so it was interesting to find out she was on Draco's side. It also made her wonder who else at The Firm thought the charges were bogus.

"Well even if he is innocent over Romania, what about kidnapping you? He pretty much admitted it." Hermione tried to keep her voice neutral, but the hurt was evident to anyone who knew her.

Camille looked at her long and hard, until she felt the need to squirm. "You like him, don't you? I mean - really like him."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat for a moment before replying. "It doesn't matter now anyway, Cam. What he's done is unforgivable. Not only did I trust him once, I made the same bloody mistake again. He must be laughing at the gullible witch Granger."

"No, Hermione, I don't think he would be. Look, he told you to trust him, so maybe you _should_ trust him. Merlin, I'm not sure where I should start after that story. So here goes - I wasn't taken from the house like you were led to believe. And I was definitely not kidnapped by Draco – though he sort of led me to be kidnapped." Inhaling deeply, Camille continued, oblivious to the shock plastered on Hermione's face. "I was grabbed from behind when I raced outside; at first I couldn't see who it was. But before I could react, they'd put a compulsion spell on me. One I wasn't strong enough to break."

"Compulsion spells are illegal." Hermione shook her head in stupidity, hell, almost everything she'd seen and done in the last few days was illegal. "Ignore that."

Camille smiled before continuing. "The spell gave me a ridiculously strong urge to run back to our train and escape in it. It compelled me not to be seen, to stay safe, and hide for a few days until further instructions came via an owl."

"So what happened?" Curiosity got the better of Hermione, and she had to interrupt – she was never patient enough.

"As you could imagine – I was scared out of my brain – who had cast this spell, why and what did it have to do with Marcus and Isabelle's deaths? All I could do was scream your name. Then Draco was on me – whispering I was going to be okay – that nothing would hurt me – and that he would keep you safe. After knowing all was well – the spell kicked in for earnest and I ran for the train. As much as I wanted to wait for you – I couldn't. I instantly knew Draco was the one who cast the spell on me." Camille stopped to take the last bite of her éclair. It was a miracle Hermione didn't kick her under the table to hurry her story along. Instead, she sat back heavily on the soft cushioning the café chairs provided.

Once again, Hermione found herself impressed with the level of Draco's spell-casting. As quickly as she felt it, she pushed it down again. She had to stay relatively impartial – it was difficult.

Before she spoke again, Camille held her hand up, indicating for another coffee. Hermione was already buzzing from lack of sleep, too much exercise and too many coffees. Yet, she still inclined her head for a chai latte.

"Anyway, I made it to our train, and was just about to leave, when Franklin grabbed me. He'd obviously been waiting for us the whole time. I was so relieved to see him. Yet he was furious when he realised you weren't coming aboard too. I was just confused by that point as to why he was angry. See the compulsion spell was still at work – and I was meant to remain unseen – I was at war with myself. Franklin only kept muttering about spells and plans and didn't see my distress. When I finally managed to ask him what he was on about….well suffice to say – I woke up free of compulsion and at the mercy of one pissed off Timothy. The bastards never asked me anything – never eluded to why they had me. They just came in every hour on the hour to rough me up. I didn't sleep – I didn't eat much. I've never been so helpless. One thing I know for sure though is Draco wasn't part of their plan to kidnap me – maybe you misunderstood what he said in regards to my disappearance."

Hermione waited while the waitress placed their hot beverages in-front of them before saying anything.

"Well, he didn't actually admit anything I guess – he just sort of yelled at Franklin about it."

Camille did a perfect impression of Hermione's one eyebrow raise. "Are you telling me that you jumped to a bloody conclusion? Hermione you fool – you always do this."

"Fine, I'm an idiot. But only because I can't understand why Draco would do that to you, I mean the compulsion spell. What difference did it make if you were around, why get you out of the way? I was bloody frantic." Hermione was more mumbling out loud than directing her questions to Camille, so she missed the look of compassion on her friends face. "If Draco had some form of grand plan, why not share it with me? Why be so deceitful?"

Camille took a moment before answering, stirring three sugars into her drink. Hermione almost slapped her hand away. How Camille managed to drink coffee when it was sweetened to within an inch of its life was a mystery. Camille took a sip and grimaced slightly. "Who knows, Hermione, would you have believed the truth if he'd said it? Not bloody likely. You two were always snarky with each other, always trying to out-do the other. He probably got frustrated at your stubborn ways, and wanted to be the know-it-all for once."

Hermione spluttered. "Stubborn…"

"Yes, stubborn. I love you to pieces, but you do have control issues." Camille was grinning broadly by now. Hermione almost regretted healing Camille's wounds, she deserved a little pain.

Hermione sat back and thought about it all for a second. Camille was right, if he had just blurted out what was happening; she would have smacked him in the head, called him freaking insane and arrested him – well try to anyway.

"So what do we do now? If you're still wanted for the murders, we need to clear your name. Which technically should be easy; I'm your alibi. I was with you the two days leading up to finding Isabelle and Marcus. They can't disregard evidence like that."

"Not unless they frame you too." Hermione pointed out.

Camille scrunched her nose up. "Yeah, I guess you're right. A week ago I would have said it wasn't possible, but if what you say is all true, who do we trust?"

Hermione shook her head in bewilderment and shrugged. "I have no idea. At the moment I only trust two people - you and me. Plus, even if we do clear my name of the murders, I'm still a traitor. I need to find out who this Shade Corporation is, and how Franklin's involved - then un-involve myself from them."

"How do we do that?"

Taking in a deep breath, she hoped Camille would at least hear her out. "We break into The Firm and hopefully find something in Franklin's office to incriminate him - or clear me. It's a sketchy plan at best. Actually it's not even a plan at all yet."

Camille whistled long and low. "When you want to take on a mission, you certainly aim for the stars. It will be near on impossible for just the two of us."

"Are you saying I'm doing this alone?" Hermione raised an eyebrow at Camille.

"Hell no, after the beatings I received from Timothy and his goons. I'm all for some arse kicking. When do we leave?"

Hermione looked at her watch, trying not to show relief that Camille was with her on this pretty much unachievable mission. "Give me an hour to get supplies then we'll Apparate."

Two hours later, Hermione and Camille were in position - by breaking into the building opposite to The Firms headquarters. They were now sitting at a window on the twenty fifth floor; looking across the wide gap through high powered binoculars. There was not a lot of movement to the naked eye, but Hermione knew from experience that a hefty guard duty worked the night shift.

Naturally, The Firm had all wands tuned into their magic network, and only after you sign in at the front desk would your wand work within its walls. Hermione and Camille were not about to ask permission. Therefore, they would have to do it the old fashioned way – break in like cat-burglars and use their wits.

Looking at all the hardware sitting around her, Hermione hoped she'd thought of every scenario. They would use a harpoon with a rope attached to launch a tightrope between the two buildings. Since they were so high up, hopefully they wouldn't be seen. Their position would allow them access to the smoker's balcony on The Firms building. Hermione loathed the filthy habit, but was glad now that they had installed the small space for the few witches and wizards who had taken it up. It was the perfect weakness in The Firms defence.

"Ready?" Camille nodded back in response and pulled a night vision mask on. She looked alien, yet Hermione knew she looked no different as she pulled hers on.

Lining up the shot, Camille managed to hit the exact spot. Pulling the ropes tight and tying them down, she motioned to Hermione it was safe to cross. Now - Hermione wasn't afraid of heights, not at all. Well, not when a parachute was attached to your back or a rope to your feet. She was sliding across a huge drop, with nothing but her grip ensuring she didn't fall. It didn't inspire too much confidence.

Hooking her legs over the top and gripping the rope in her hands, she started to slowly pull-slide herself across like a kid playing on the parallel bars at school. If she was a show-off, she would have run across the top, but she liked life and didn't want to go splat on the pavement below. They had decided to go across one at a time – in-case their weight was too much for the harpoon.

Before she knew it, the gap had been breached and she was sliding up onto the balcony. She had only come up here once in her career at The Firm; with Draco. He had decided to see what this new fad the Muggle's had introduced called smoking was all about. He had almost coughed up a lung, swore for three hours and ate fifteen packets of mints. To say he didn't take to it; was the understatement of the century.

The rope tightened again as Camille slid onto it. Hermione watched her progress for a moment, until she sensed a movement behind her. Spinning quickly she came face to face with someone completely decked out almost identically to her. They were taller than her and appeared stronger, yet Hermione was itching for a fight and took a running jump at them, surprising the masked person.

She slammed her shoulder into their chest. Hearing a grunt of pain from her masked opponent sent a shiver of satisfaction through her body. They back-peddled a few steps until managing to gain their footing.

Then it was on - Hermione fell back as they began to spar in earnest. She deftly blocked a hit to her neck and side stepped their attempt at tripping her. Her forearm stung from the repeated blows, yet they had not managed to land one. Meanwhile her size and speed ensured she hit twice; once on their side, and another to their shoulder. Each time they retaliated with simple, basic moves. Either they were a novice or they were holding back.

Hermione had an inkling they might be holding back, and this annoyed her. _Damn it_, she craved a fight – she needed to slam her fists into something. If only so she could feel something other than betrayal and loss. So she began to fight harder, faster and looser. They had ample opportunity to land a blow, yet they still blocked and fought back almost mechanically.

The urge to scream blue murder, was become too great, she needed them to do something. So she threw herself at them again. Pressed tightly against their chest, she hooked her leg around their knee and yanked. A growl emitted from the mask as they landed on one knee. Hermione wasted no time and struck out again, hoping for a blow to the nose. A huge hand caught hers instead. It surprised her into not moving for a second.

Her opponents arm snaked around her waist and pulled her in tight - very tight. Breathing became difficult but not impossible. She squirmed against them, trying to free herself. It wasn't going to happen, their sheer strength overpowered her.

At that moment, Camille jumped over the edge and saw what was happening. She assessed the situation for a second before attacking. As she ran for them, Hermione saw something from the corner of her eyes. There was a second assailant to match the one who currently was squeezing her into motionlessness. She tried to yell, yet the mask made it near on impossible to hear anything.

They caught Camille mid motion – yet Camille was quick and immediately got into a good position. Hermione watched as the two began to spar in an almost identical style. Frowning, she watched them – it was uncanny. It was almost as if they had been trained by the same person.

Suddenly Hermione's attacker let her go. Why - she didn't know, but she didn't waste time. Kicking out, she landed a blow on their upper thigh. They spun to the side and blocked another kick of hers. She screamed in frustration and threw her mask off.

"Fight, you bastard – fight me."

They didn't comply. She could tell they were a brilliant fighter, not classically trained as her, yet more of a brawling kind. Then Hermione heard a loud crash from behind her and took a second to look. Camille and her opponent had knocked over one of the huge smokers stands filled with sand. Smoke butts, and sand spilled over the ground making it slippery. Within seconds Camille was on the ground - her attacker on-top of her. Hermione held her breath, and spun around to run for Camille. Strong arms embraced her from behind; she kicked out, but they lifted her off the ground.

Frantically she looked over at Camille, and saw she was not harmed, the person was just subduing her. What the hell was going on? She recklessly squirmed and bucked, trying to loosen the grip – they only held on tighter. Then she saw a mask being flung onto the ground in-front of her.

"Granger, I've warned about you squirming before, haven't I?" The deep voice was unmistakable. She suddenly went immobile. Her whole body flushed cold and she began to shake deep within herself. _Keep it together; _she told herself, _fall apart later_, it had been done before. "If I put you down, do you promise not to run?"

Hermione nodded, too dumbstruck to do anything else. Although, the second she was put on the ground she spun and slammed her palm hard onto Draco's cheek. He took the blow like a professional, only a tinge of red marred the pristine whiteness of his face. As his stormy grey eyes met her chocolate brown ones, she went to slap him again. This time he grabbed her hand and held her back.

"Do you feel better?"

She wanted to scream at him, she would never be better; she would never trust anyone again. He had killed something in her with his betrayal, and she wasn't sure whether she could ever regain it. Merlin, seeing his gorgeous face again was like a blow to her solar plexus. She couldn't do this now; she couldn't function properly while he stood so calmly in-front of her. Hermione wished it was as simple as a slap which made her feel better. Yet Draco had done a lot more to her than just lie. He'd created a hammer to chip away at the armour around her heart, and that was unforgivable.

Instead she looked up into his eyes and sneered. 'Your lifeless body would be a good start."

He looked taken aback for a second at the venom in her voice; then he matched her sneer and surpassed it. He was after all, the king of all sneers. "Really, Granger? Lifeless?" He leant in closer; and she tried leaning away from him as far as possible – which wasn't far. He licked the shell of her ear before whispering. "I think not. You want me – you want me bad, because I'm _so_ wrong for you. In fact, you're turned on now – aren't you?"

His arrogance completely astounded her. All she felt was…shit, she _was_ getting turned on. Her body must love betrayal, because that's what it just did to her. She was crazy – certifiable, if one small lick and a few dirty words from the man she despised above all others could make her knickers wet through.

"Of course I am; murderers and liars are my kink, didn't you know?"

He stiffened slightly and leant away from her, watching her face closely. What he saw, she didn't know, but he turned from her and swore. He still hadn't relinquished his hold of her though; he was smarter than she gave him credit for. She would have just hit him again if he let go.

"Why are you here? It's bloody dangerous." He ground out - he was furious. Why? She was the one who'd been screwed over after all.

"Why do you think, moron. I have to clear my name. Or did you forget that _I_ at least still have a life to return to when this was all over?"

She knew it was a low blow; she didn't care – not really. Her words did actually make him let her go; he also pushed her away, as if disgusted with her.

"So this is how it's going to be?" He suddenly sounded defeated, but before she could tell, his eyes hardened slightly and his voice took on the harsh edge of danger. "Is it?"

She swung her arm back around at him, Draco deflected gracefully; she spun and tried to hit him three more times. Each and every time he side-stepped with perfection. The frustration and pain welled up inside of her.

"What the fuck did you expect? You lied to me, Draco. You spelled, hurt and killed people. All in the name of what? Your ego? Or to see if you could do it – or is it money? Is that your motivation? You want to reclaim what was yours, Malfoy Manor?" She was yelling so hard, her voice grew hoarse. Dropping her arms to her side again, she exhaled in defeat.

"What about trust between partners?" Was the only reply she received for her tirade.

Hermione looked at him and raised her eyebrows in disbelief. Quickly she stole a glance at Camille, and saw her in the same position. Her attacker sat on her, holding her arms down; she no longer struggled. She was waiting for a sign from Hermione. Camille would have been able to make out Draco, by now. But she wouldn't have been able to hear them talking.

"I think that's been abused enough, don't you?" She almost whispered.

Draco grabbed her arm and squeezed. "I only asked one thing of you – to trust me. You couldn't could you? After all we have been through; you still couldn't grant me that small boon. You are so smart, Granger, so switched on. Yet you truly suck at human nature, at reading people."

Hermione could only look up aghast at his words. They cut deep; she was the one who had been wronged. But somehow he had turned it on her, making her feel like she was in the wrong. He didn't stop – he continued.

"What's the first lesson they teach at The Firm?" When she didn't reply, he yelled it to her. "Trust your partner; they are an extension of yourself. Your partner is your sixth sense. Trust is paramount. Do you remember those lessons, Granger?"

She felt tears form at his angry, hurtful words. Yet she nodded. "Yes." Her voice cracked. "Yes, I bloody remember it."

"Good. I want you to think on it for a moment." Draco ran his hands through his hair as he swore again. "Do you really think I'm capable of killing my friends, my comrades? Merlin, you must think me worse than the lowest form of scum."

He then indicated to the other masked person. They stood up and let Camille go. She gingerly rose while ripping her mask off. Camille's look was questioning as she stared between Hermione and Draco. The tension was so thick, movement was almost impossible.

The masked figure walked towards them, and just before they reached Hermione and Draco, the visor came off.

Hermione stood in shock; then she slumped to the ground and stared up at the dark haired man before her, not trusting her eyes. She flicked her eyes between the two men; Draco stood looking away from her, his jaw clenched. Shame welled over her entire being as she looked back at the now unmasked man.

"My God, Marcus?"

* * *

**A/N: Hmmm I'm getting bad with these cliff-hangers hey! Never fear - all will be revealed soon! I really hope you are all still enjoying this - even though I tend to be toying with our lovely Granger and Draco! Would you believe me if I said its what they wanted? (Crazy - I know!) Anyway I once again send my eternal thanks to all who read, favourite, alert and of course review this story! I love hearing from you all, and what you all think is going to happen next! Thanks for hanging in with me! Next chapter will be up soon! :)**


	8. Chapter 8

Draco still refused to look at Hermione as Marcus helped her off the ground. A new form of pain crept up unawares in her chest at his indifference. It was a hurt unlike all the betrayal she had been on the receiving end of. It almost felt as if she had let him down somehow – but that was ludicrous. No – they were _both_ at fault. She couldn't help but wonder why her trust was so hard to give. Maybe she should learn to trust herself first.

Shaking off the peculiar feeling, she looked back to Marcus. Her mouth fell open of its own accord, and stayed in its shocked position for a moment. He was completely unharmed. She didn't know what to think – she _couldn't_ think to be honest. All she could do was stand motionless as Marcus, her boss - her friend, embraced her heartily.

Camille's exclamation from over Marcus's shoulder blurred in with the whispered words he was muttering. Hermione held on tight, almost as if her life depended on his strong arms and steady heartbeat. Then she heard the creeping voice in her mind tell her that she was enfolded with the wrong wizard. She really craved Draco's warmth and acceptance. Hermione shooed the absurd thought from her mind, Malfoy appeared decidedly uninterested in what was happening. Intriguingly Hermione wondered at what point she began to yearn for his attention. Marcus continued to breathe words against her, and it took a few disorientating moments to finally hear what he was whispering.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. We couldn't tell anyone, so sorry. I'm sorry."

Hermione felt tears of s_omething _trail down her cheeks. Whether it was shock, happiness or anger she couldn't tell. Words were failing her; she had nothing, yet everything to say. She had held Marcus's dead body in her arms, now he was a living breathing entity holding her upright. Hermione was sure in these precious few moments if he had let go, she would have fallen to the ground.

Marcus finally pulled away from her, holding her at arms length. Hermione grinned; then choked on her own tears. A smile she didn't know she still had within her lit her face. Then she saw Draco's dark expression.

He was watching her exchange with Marcus intently, his silver eyes hard – unforgiving. His pale skin appeared alabaster in the moonlight, so pale; almost insubstantial. She thought him almost a shadow, one which would fade into the wall and disappear in a moments notice. For some reason this made her feel forlorn. Suddenly Draco's eyes narrowed; then he walked away and placed his hands on the balcony, looking down at the street below. She could see the tenseness in his shoulders. _Had she somehow caused it?_ Marcus's grip on her shoulders tightened, and she looked back at her friend.

"How...what…Christ, Marcus…I don't know where to….you were dead…" Incoherent sentences began; then stopped as Hermione struggled for words and questions all at the same time. In true Marcus form, he understood her perfectly; he'd always had the knack.

"It was a Glamour; a very intricate spell to make me appear as if I was dying. Malfoy did a brilliant job; you almost caught him going out the window. Lucky Camille's shot missed."

Hermione snapped her head around and stared at Draco's back. She could tell he was desperately trying to feign a general lack of interest. She had to stop being impressed at his spell casting. She wondered if he surpassed her – there was no way, it was a silly notion. Her eyes stayed on his back; for some unfathomable reason she couldn't drag them away. There was something different about him – he seemed meaner, on edge. Hermione wondered what she should believe. Did Marcus being alive change things? Of course they did – but what – and how much?

"So does that mean…Isabelle?" She trailed off hopefully.

Marcus's eyes lost some of their light, and Hermione found her hope sinking. "No, she truly is gone. I was supposed to protect her…but I couldn't. It all happened too fast…she was supposed to stay put in Dubai. I was meant to be alone at the safe house with Draco. Isabelle, the stubborn wonderful witch she was, followed me, thinking I was in trouble. Timothy got to her before I knew what was happening. The bastard had used a silencing spell on the lounge room. She never had a chance." Marcus's voice hitched slightly, but he continued. "Then you and Camille arrived. It was supposed to be Franklin – alone. We had no idea he would send you both in his stead. It seems like he doesn't like getting his hands dirty. I had to make a heartbreakingly tough decision to continue on with my plan. I knew that Isabelle was an operative first and foremost and would have known and agreed to keep the mission on track."

Hermione could see the guilt tearing Marcus up on the inside, she knew the feeling well. She also would have wanted the plan to go ahead if she was killed; especially if it was for the greater good of the country. "I'm sorry, Marcus."

"Don't be. It's my cross to bear now; I put her in that position. I ended up underestimating some of my best operatives with this covert mission. I now see I should have told the truth from the beginning."

The statement hung in the air for a moment, the irony of it not lost on Hermione. Draco moved all of a sudden and spun around. Her eyes held his for a moment; an arrogant look of righteousness graced his features. Hermione felt anger bubble; he honestly thought he did the right thing by lying to her the whole time. _Egotistical bloody prick._

Staring directly at Draco, her lip curled a little. "Why me, why keep me in the dark – why not let me in on the plan?" Her words came out sharper than she thought they would.

"Do you really think we have time for this now, Granger? You can catch up with Marcus over marshmallows and hot chocolate - _after_ we get the Pensive." Draco's frosty voice cut like a knife across the balcony. If she didn't know better – she would swear he sounded jealous of something.

She felt her hackles unintentionally rise at the tone in his voice; she wanted answers now – not later. Marcus gave her an apologetic look.

"Malfoy's right; we have to move soon. But, Hermione, it was not a slight at you or your skills. It was a mission six years in the making, only Draco and I were involved in it. Franklin setting him up was the perfect out for Draco to join me – secretly and off the grid. If I could do this over – I would do it differently, believe me. We had a magically binding vow between us not to tell anyone of our mission – not an Unbreakable Vow, but close to it. This is why Draco couldn't tell you exactly what was going on – only hint at it."

Hermione felt sick in the stomach, it churned with turmoil and guilt – this changed everything. She now understood Draco's reluctance to tell her what was happening, he physically couldn't tell her. She knew how those vows worked – she had one with Harry and Ron over some things that had happened in the war against Voldemort. Hermione looked up sharply, yet only saw the back of Draco's head. _Crap – why were things never easy?_

"Before I tell you anything more, I need to discern if you're with us. I know this is a huge ask of you both, but Franklin _will_ pay for his deeds against England's Wizarding Community if you help." Marcus stopped and gave Malfoy a strange look, one which Hermione couldn't decipher. "Maybe I'll buy you both this 'hot chocolate' as thanks."

Hermione glanced over at Camille. She nodded almost indecipherably. Her eyes swung over to Draco. He was still tense, holding his entire body rigid, like he was a tightly coiled spring ready to snap at the slightest provocation. He wouldn't look at her, only Marcus. It stung more than she wanted to admit, but now was not the time for self-pity. She had been put through a proverbial blender in the last few days, but having Marcus standing in-front of her, whole and unhurt, made the decision easy.

"You know I'm always with you, Marcus."

He smiled and patted her shoulder, squeezing it gently. It was a small amount of the comfort she truly seeked. She saw Draco stiffen, and look away. Frowning slightly, she took a step towards him, then stopped – _why bother_? A sudden anger at his childish behaviour reared its head inside of her.

Camille came up and gave Marcus a very quick firm hug and ruffled his hair, which from her height looked almost ridiculous. He stared down at her, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

Draco coughed tightly. "The Pensive…"

"Right." Marcus suddenly had his game face on; Hermione smiled proudly - he would make a perfect leader one day. "We need to break into Franklin's relic safe. It contains a very rare and special Pensive, the only way to open the files."

"What do you mean 'open' them?" Hermione's voice was low; she could still feel Draco's cold eyes staring at her. It was unpleasant and she wanted to snap at him to stop it.

"The files are transfigured memories. They are the only two in existence which when put together - foretell how to bring back the un-dead."

"What do you mean - the un-dead? Surely you don't mean zombies?" Hermione almost smiled, she believed in most things – but zombies, _come on_.

"Not exactly – it brings things once dead, back to life – true life. The spell can make anything return from a pure death. This is why it's imperative to get it, and quickly if possible. Franklin has been after the two memories for almost ten years. Imagine the list of people he could bring back with this one spell." Marcus looked all three of them in the eyes before continuing, they each had a list of names in their heads – Voldemort at the top of all of them. "Draco managed to retrieve the first memory and hid it in plain sight – at the Manor. As soon as Franklin found out he'd concealed it – he set Malfoy up, hoping he would give up the file in exchange for his freedom. He underestimated Draco's tenacity."

"Why not just kill Malfoy? Franklin must have known the file would turn up eventually." Camille's question hung in the air.

"Franklin likes to toy with people, he likes to inflict the sort of pain which gets under your skin and itches until you want to rip yourself apart just to alleviate it. Setting Malfoy up to look like his traitorous father; was a game to Franklin. Making you, Hermione, a double agent when you're so straight laced and by the book would have also brought him some form of sick delight. And Camille, making you helpless…" Marcus didn't need to continue – they all knew. Camille had her step-father incarcerated for beating her mother.

Hermione had to swallow the hurt and rage which consumed her. Christ, she had trusted Franklin with her life – foolishly so it seemed. It was becoming apparent that she had no idea which way was up when it came to trust. It seemed like she put her faith in all the wrong people. Hearing what a masochist Franklin could be, made the whole scenario at the Manor make sense. He toyed with her and Draco for the fun of it. He wanted to see the hurt and pain she went through. If he was standing in-front of her now on fire – she wouldn't even spit on him to put it out – she would walk away. Hermione tried desperately to ignore the unease in her chest which came from thinking of her behaviour towards Draco that night. He had every right to be furious at her.

"When you both turned up at the safe house instead of Franklin, Draco had to act on instinct alone. We hadn't planned for it. Using a compulsion on Camille to keep her away from the action – seemed a good idea at the time. We had no idea Franklin was waiting for you in the train." He looked over at Camille. "I can't apologise enough for what you had to endure at the hands of Timothy."

Camille's eyes welled up and Hermione could see her shoulders stiffen. "All part of the job, boss."

Hermione felt a lump in her chest at how brave Camille had been. She was a brilliant partner and friend. Marcus took in another large breath.

"Then Draco did the only other thing he could think of, he took you on the run to protect you. Although we didn't anticipate on Franklin sending every man he had to find you. When you disappeared with the file – he went nuts, and brought forward his plan to frame you; once again underestimating your insane ability to do the right thing. You would also not give up the file just to clear your name – especially when you found out what the spell could do. He kept Camille as collateral, knowing you'd want to save her. Draco did a brilliant job at keeping you safe."

Hermione almost snorted. Safe – not likely, she had been thrown in the pit with a snake. A Slytherin no less, who had no right to be so damn sexy. Her body and her mind would never be safe while he was around. Somehow she mused – this was not always a bad thing.

Marcus's whole plan was starting to fall into place in her mind though; the secrets, the looks – the plan. She wasn't happy about being left in the dark – yet The Firm _was_ a spy organisation, so she was used to the secrets. Though, this was personal – she was directly involved. In the end as long as the reanimation spell remained out of Franklin's hands, she was okay – sort of. Then a thought occurred to Hermione.

"Hey, how did you know we would be here tonight?"

Draco's sardonic drawl answered her. "You're very predictable, Granger. It was plainly obvious this would be your next stop – that is, if you wanted to clear your name."

Hermione almost snarled at him. He let a slow smile spread at her anger. His insufferably good looks just infuriated her even more. "Predictable hey? Well predict this."

She stormed over and slapped him – well almost. He managed to grab her wrist before she contacted. Fury at her stupidity blinded her for a second.

"See…predictable." He smirked down at her. Unseen by Marcus and Camille, he lightly pulled her forward, so she fell against him and had no choice but to splay her other hand against his chest. He let his hand trail down her back, caressing ever so slightly against the tightness of her cat-like suit. He stopped an inch above her waist, then threw caution to the wind and slid it lower so he cupped her arse. Feelings and images of them in his niche at the Manor assaulted her, _shit_, she wanted him – talk about inappropriate. His raw sexuality called out to the wildness within her. She looked up into his smug face and held her breath. "At least I'm not _as_ predictable as you – you're all but begging for a kiss….maybe later."

He squeezed her one last time, before spinning her away from him. Hermione's face flamed red in embarrassment. Although she soon realised Marcus and Camille were talking together and hadn't witnessed the exchange.

Hermione put some distance between them – she couldn't do this. Her body wanted him to the point of distraction – her mind was a different matter. It would be so very easy to let it all go and ask no questions. But, that was not Hermione Granger's way – never was, and never would be.

"You're an arse, Malfoy."

Instead of rising to the bait as she thought, he looked down at her butt instead.

"Yes, I like your arse – why ask me that now, of all times?" He said it just loud enough to get Marcus's attention. Hermione flushed. _Bastard_.

Marcus took ten minutes to outline the plan. Hermione was impressed – it was perfect – all bar one thing. She was partnered up with Malfoy, and no amount of protesting and cajoling was getting Marcus to change the plan. She knew the plan was incredible the way it was – Malfoy and she had worked brilliantly in the past, but that was it. It was in the past. Trust was a horrible finicky word. Had she regained enough trust in Malfoy the person, as well as the operative? Maybe it was time she took a leap of faith.

After asking for the hundredth time if they understood the plan, Marcus finally gave the go ahead. Hermione and Draco stayed on the balcony as Camille and Marcus abseiled off of it, to a lower level. They were to provide a very loud distraction, full of explosions and disarray. In the meantime, Draco and Hermione would sneak around to the vault and get the Pensive.

The air suddenly grew thick; she realised she was alone with Malfoy for the first time since the Manor. She looked awkwardly at him; his gaze was intently watching the two operatives slide down the side of the building. Hermione took this time to watch him from the corner of her eye. He appeared tired – exhausted was more the word. She herself; didn't know how she still stood on two feet, it was probably worse for him. Even though she had no idea why, Hermione thought she had best break the ice.

"What happened with Franklin, how did you escape?" Her voice was quiet in the darkness.

He looked at her once, then back down at the others; disdain clearly etched on his face. "What makes you think _I_ was the one to run away? Conclusions Hermione – you always jump to them - the bloody coward Apparated away as soon as he started to lose the fight. Then I went straight to your boy-toy Marcus when I couldn't find you." Draco's grey eyes flicked back to her face once more; his eyebrow rose. Her stupid stomach fluttered a little at his simple gesture.

"Marcus…my boy-toy – you're joking right, as if I would be interested…he's like a brother…no, I won't rise to the bait this time - look, let's just do this mission together now. Then that's it – no more having to work together - ever. Find some other gullible operative to lie to." She'd had enough, and snapping was all she could manage.

Suddenly he grabbed her bicep, curling his fingers painfully into her soft skin. He ignored her grunt of discomfort and spun her to face him. Unfortunately, she had to look up into his eyes – he was too tall at this close range. Draco's damn shower gel infiltrated her senses again; he'd had time to shower – _brilliant_. Her head felt a little fuzzy with sensory overload, yet she could make out his anger, it was burning through him.

"Granger, I won't tell you again – and I hate that _you_ of all people, make me repeat myself; I had _no_ choice but to do what I did – I was under a bloody vow. Either accept it - or not. We can't keep doing this." His clipped tone made her swallow tightly.

"And if I don't accept it?" It was barely a whisper.

Next thing she knew, Draco had devoured her lips in a searing kiss, which left nothing to the imagination - his intention was clear. His tongue barged into her mouth like a conquering army, taking everything he needed and leaving her bereft and breathless. She couldn't help it; she responded in kind. Fisting his hair she pushed herself onto his lips greedily. His small groan was the only indication he had let go of some control. It was the basest of emotions they were experiencing. No thoughts – just feeling.

His fingers still tightened on her upper-arms, until she cried out in pain – yet he didn't let go. Hermione welcomed the physical pain. She was almost ready to lose herself in sensation, when Draco pushed her away from him.

"You will. Because you want me – you want what I can give you. Deep down you know it to be true, you love drama, Granger – and I provide plenty of it. Normal, boring and staid is not what you crave. You'll see, I'm always right." He walked away from her and picked up his small knapsack, rummaging around until he pulled out a lock-pick.

Hermione stood motionless. In that moment – she hated him, hated him with a passion; because he was right. He was always bloody right. Licking her lips only made them tingle further, she glared to herself. She _did_ want him – why, because he was the only person in the world to keep her on her toes, to make her feel on fire. Emotions had never been easy for Hermione, yet Draco brought them all to the fore. She felt a thousand different things around him, excitement, bitterness, uncertainty and pure unadulterated lust to name a few.

Taking in a huge breath she tried to decipher exactly what it was she felt. Suddenly Draco whistled at her low and quiet. She looked up out of her daze and saw a guard doing the rounds inside the building. Now was not the time to think on whether she could work anything out with Draco. Maybe never would be the time, but right now they had a job to do. Hermione sprinted to the wall, and pushed herself flat against it.

Draco grabbed his bag, and hid on the other side of the window to her; backed up against a balustrade. He looked over at her and smirked. The Bastard knew his words had an effect on her. He had won. She flipped him the bird and he laughed, low and sexy. She couldn't help her returning smile.

The guard had obviously been doing this for years, and never come across a problem. He was sloppy and didn't check the balcony at all. He only did a sweep with the glow of his wand. Moron. No wonder Franklin had been able to get away with being a spy for so long – security in The Firm was atrocious.

Hermione and Draco waited. Next minute a huge crash and explosion sounded seven floors below them. Hermione smiled, Marcus and Camille were in. The guard ran down the hall, and within a second, Draco was at the door – lock-pick in hand. It took less than three seconds before they made it inside. The sensor would have picked up that a door had opened on the twenty fifth floor; but because of the ruckus below it would go unnoticed – hopefully.

"Which way?" Draco pitched his voice loudly to speak over the alarms.

"Oh, you don't know _everything_ then?" Hermione raised her own eyebrow.

Draco frowned at her and sighed. "Not the time to be a smart-arse. I haven't been here for six years, Granger. Now where do we go?"

Hermione flashed him a grin and grabbed his hand, pulling him down the corridore. Yelling over her shoulder to him, she outlined where the office was.

The alarms continued to scream out, and Hermione was glad – it meant they didn't have to be careful about noise for a while. Their heavy footsteps pounded down the hall, until the doorway for the stairs made her stop short. They had to go up six levels. Neither said why they refused to take the elevator – it was obvious.

Bursting through the door they took three steps up at a time. By the time they reached the thirty first level, a fine sheen of sweat covered Hermione's forehead. Still pulling Draco along, she took them straight to Franklin's office. Here they stopped before going any further.

"We better be careful, I have no idea if he has wards on his office – or his safe for that matter. I hope Marcus told you what to do since we have no wands; and no magic at all." Hermione looked up into Draco's face and found him smirking down at her. She felt a small tug in her chest at how sinfully sexy the smirk looked on his face. She licked her lips involuntary and his eyes followed the movement.

"No teasing, Granger." Then he winked at her. Her stomach clamped, _shit_, she adored a man who could pull a wink off without looking lecherous. "I have it under control, just get me to the safe."

Gulping, Hermione pulled herself back into the present, ogling Draco could wait. She took one more look at him though, just in-case. She always seemed to get caught up in the spell which was Draco's teasing. His anger although was another matter – it usually provoked her own, therefore ending in a yelling match. No-body was perfect.

Franklin's door clicked open, and Hermione slipped inside. There was no tingling which forewarned of a spell; so she motioned for Draco to enter. He came in and pressed himself against her back. It unnerved her how much close contact with him made her heart race. Then it just annoyed her, because she couldn't control it – and Hermione always liked to be in control.

"Never heard of personal space?" Hermione snapped.

Draco's breath tickled the back of her ear as he bent low to speak to her. "It mask's the two heat signature's. If there is a ward in here for security, it will only show up as one person on their screen. Forgetful aren't you?"

Hermione felt a little daft, she knew this – knew it well infact. It was a lesson they'd been taught years ago. Hell, she and Camille used the tactic all the time. Begrudgingly, Hermione clamped her hand in his, placing it on her thigh; so they could walk to the safe as one. She felt a rumble in her back and glared. He was bloody laughing at her.

"This means nothing, Malfoy. I still hate you, you know."

"And I you, Granger. Move your arse along." His hand squeezed her thigh and she felt a shard of desire run down the length of her leg then back up to her pussy. The safe was only three metres away – she could handle the heat for that long – surely.

Their body's moved as one across the floor; even though their height was very different – they fit together perfectly. Then Hermione felt something on her lower back.

"Malfoy, are you getting hard?" His chuckle was all the response she needed. Her heart sped up and a warm pleasant flush ran through her body. She was getting slick with arousal, and once again at the most inopportune moment. Most people probably desired having sex on their boss's desk – she was not one of them. Plus, they were on a tight schedule. "Stop it." She whispered harshly instead.

"I can't magically make it go away, Granger." His grip tightened on her thigh, making her stop for a moment. "But, maybe you could make it disappear."

"In your dreams, Malfoy." Hermione smirked and undulated her hips for a second – eliciting a low moan from Draco. He felt good – too good, she had to stop before she lost her sane mind. So she stopped and pulled them forward again.

"Witch." He murmured, but she heard the smile in his voice.

When they got to the safe, Hermione looked at it, and felt the hope within her dissipate. It was huge and the lock had many wards across it.

"Now what? The wards prevent any magic being used on the safe." Hermione heard the despondency in her voice.

"I'm not going to be using magic. Let me in-front."

They switched places, with Hermione now leaning on his back as he looked over the mechanics of the vault. She saw him smile. Next minute he pressed an ear against the door and began revolving the small wheel.

"What are you doing?" Hermione whispered into his ear, smiling when he stiffened at her closeness.

"Shhh, Granger – I'm breaking into it, Muggle style."

Hermione looked at his profile, impressed. Malfoy was full of surprises, not all good ones though she had to admit. Leaning against him she watched closely as he began working the numbered spool.

"Two more to go…" His voice was full of concentration. Suddenly the office door flew open and two guards burst in. Draco pushed her off of him. "Cover me, I almost have it."

She loved how he didn't ask her if she was strong enough to take them on – he knew. Hermione went straight into operative mode and pulled out a small baton from her thigh holster. Bless sports stores and their array of unintentional weapons. She ran for the first guard.

Hermione had to be smart about this, they were from The Firm and she didn't want to hurt them too much. Just before she reached the first one, she dropped to her knees and slid across the linoleum floor, whacking him on the back of his legs with her baton. He instantly landed on his side, where she jumped onto his back and head-butted him hard. Pain exploded in her temple, but the guard was down for the count – for a moment anyway.

A kick to her back made her grunt out aloud in pain. The other guard had made his move. Hermione threw her arms up and blocked his second kick. Pain sliced through her forearm as one blow landed particularly hard. She had to find a better position, because being on the ground and having kicks hailed on her was not a great defensive tactic. Kicking out she managed to slam the heel of her foot down on his toes. It gave her the second she needed to regain her footing.

They circled each other for a moment, sizing up the next move. Would she go on the offense or just wait and hope an opening would arise for her to attack? Hermione didn't have long to think on it as he punched out at her. She grabbed his hand in hers, mimicking Draco's earlier move. Yet, her attacker was stronger and pulled his arm back in, with her still attached.

She slammed into his chest and he wrenched her arm behind her. Hermione cried out in pain; then she got angry. There was no way a security guard would get the best of her – she was a bloody top operative, not a first year student. Twisting the same way her arm was being held, she spun and lifted her elbow up at the same time. By the time she managed to finish her arc, her elbow connected with the guard's cheek. She ended up standing next to him as he grunted and held his face.

Hoping she wasn't hurting him too much, she lifted her leg up and kicked swiftly; hitting the back of his head. He fell like a bag of cement. Guilt crept up on her, _crap_ – they still worked for her company. They were only doing their jobs – even if that meant attacking her. She leant down and felt for pulses on both men – they were strong and steady. Hermione shut her eyes for a second; thankful she didn't have a death on her conscience.

"Fuck, Granger. I had no idea you could get your leg so high." Malfoy was now staring at her, Pensive in hand. It was very small, much smaller than any others she'd seen. He raised an eyebrow at her. "I like it, very flexible…"

Hermione glared at him, how could he joke now? She then saw a wand in his hand. "Not another bootlegged wand, Malfoy? It won't work in here, not without being signed in."

He smirked at her, and looked at the wand, suddenly a noise from the doorway made Hermione spin around. Franklin strode in; stopping in shock when he saw her. Hermione stared back with just as much trepidation. Franklin recovered first, his wand drawn.

"Ah, Miss Granger. You escaped me, only to be caught again - in my office no less." His eyes flicked behind her shoulder, she smiled. Seeing Draco and her working together after what he'd done to them must have been a shock. "I see you managed to break into my safe, but what, my dear have you done with my Pensive?"

Hermione whirled around, the safe was wide open and Draco was no where to be seen. Where the hell had he gone? It was now time to put her faith in him, and for the first time that week – she knew he wouldn't let her down.

* * *

**A/N: Well, only two more chapters left! Believe me when I say the best is left for last... ;) Thank you all so much for the reading, favourites, alerts and of course the reviews! Seriously I'm still gobsmacked at some of the amazing reviews I'm receiving, you all deserve so much more than just my thanks! Hope you enjoyed this last chapter! :) Next one soon!**


	9. Chapter 9

Hermione frowned slightly, trying to figure out exactly where Draco could have hidden in such a short space of time. Then a soft touch moved against her back. It was phantom, like a whisper - almost not there.

Hermione looked down in what she hoped Franklin thought was a helpless gesture. She looked behind her, trying to make out what she'd sensed._ There_, she saw it, a very, very small blur. It then dawned on Hermione's muddled brain; Draco had swiped a wand. Somehow he was using his scrambling spell; which hid him from Franklin. Relief speared through Hermione's body, it finally felt right to trust Draco.

"Well, where is it?" Franklin's voice took on a glower, as his anger raged.

"It wasn't here. I came in, and your vault was like this when I got here. Nothing in it – not one thing – seems you have a mouse."

Franklin yelled and threw a spell at Hermione. Blue light flared across the small space, then it hit. Hermione fell to her knee's crying out at the pain. Hot stinging needles pushed themselves into her body – all over it pricked her. As the spell evolved, the needle-like sensation went deeper into her flesh until she thought she'd pass out. Before it got too intense, Franklin pulled it back. He wanted information more than killing her. Hermione looked down, expecting to see thousands of small pinpricks in her skin – nothing was there. She hated curses.

"Don't lie to me, it will only ensure that your torture will last longer. I know you have the Pensive, and I know Malfoy has the two memories. If you co-operate, I'll make sure you die quickly. Or maybe I could keep you alive. Imagine how thankful Lord Voldemort will be if I kept one of the brats who defeated him - just for his pleasure." Franklin's eyes had a maniacal gleam to them. He hungered for power. Nothing she said now; would deter him in his mad quest. She wondered what he thought Voldemort would give him if he was resurrected.

"Why, Franklin – I don't understand. Why bring _him _of all people back?"

Franklin looked at her for a moment – sizing her up. "Because I can."

Hermione gaped at him for a second. "Because you can…that's your reason…do you understand the ramifications of messing with death and rebirth – what Voldemort would do to the wizarding world if brought back?"

Franklin narrowed his eyes. "Of course I do, you impertinent chit. I will be his right hand man. I would be the one to resurrect the _true_ prince of the wizarding world. I will receive rewards beyond your understanding."

Hermione realised in that moment – Franklin had lost it, he was mad for power and lusted after the impossible. She was under no illusions if Voldemort was brought back he would kill everyone – including Franklin. There would be no free pass for anyone – the destruction and death would be infinite. Everyone and everything she had tried to keep safe over the last ten years would be consumed in Voldemort's insane quest for redemption. She couldn't allow it to happen. Then she thought of something.

"Is Shade behind this ridiculous idea?"

Franklin stilled; then looked her up and down. "You can't even begin to comprehend who Shade is. What you provided for them was invaluable – they will not be pleased to know you have abandoned your post. Now where is the Pensive, Hermione?" Franklin waggled the wand in her face again.

Hermione didn't know how to respond – who the hell _was_ Shade? And what were they going to do to her? She had to stall; Draco was moving slowly towards Franklin; trying to remain undetected.

"Okay." Hermione hung her head in apparent defeat. "I finally managed to break my way into your office, and guess what? A small fairy had bet me to the Pensive, she looked like the tooth fairy – except she had hairy legs and a beard. Ugly, really..."

The needles hit her again, tenfold to what was issued before. Hermione refused to yell out loud, she didn't want to give Franklin the satisfaction of hearing her pain. It brought tears to her eyes to hold it in though. It was a small price to pay for a victory on her behalf. Yet, she couldn't help falling to the floor in a writhing mass of shock. Just as the pain reached her natural threshold, the needles stopped. Looking up through her sweaty vision, she saw Franklin standing stock still, almost scared to move.

Hermione frowned up at him; wiping the moisture from her brow. Then she saw it. A small depression appeared on Franklin's neck; Draco was behind him, pushing the wand into his throat. A smile overtook Hermione's face.

"Franklin, meet my partner in crime – Draco."

Franklin gasped as Draco appeared behind him. The look which graced Draco's face was feral in its anger. She had seen him in a bad mood, even furious at her. But, she had never ever witnessed the madness which swirled behind Draco's grey eyes right in that moment. She felt a small prickle of fear slide down her spine. What would he do?

"Franklin – the pleasure appears to be all mine; this time." Draco's lip curled up in his hatred. Hermione held out a hand trying to get his attention – he was on edge.

"Draco." Franklin's response was as tight as the jacket he currently wore. "I _thought_ you would be after the memories too – your father will be pleased to see you – once you bring him back."

Draco growled and pushed the wand so hard into Franklin's throat, he began to splutter trying to get a breath in. Hermione knew immediately, Franklin was lying. She had enough conversations over the years with Draco to know emphatically he hated his father with a passion. Hell would freeze over, thaw - then re-freeze over four hundred years before he consented to visit his grave even.

"Admit it Franklin – you've lost."

"The only thing I've lost, Draco, is my cute little side-kick Hermione." Franklin all but purred her name. It made Hermione ill. She knew he was only trying to infuriate Draco – it was working.

Draco slammed his fist into Franklin's kidneys. He grunted and almost doubled over, but the wand in his neck stopped him. "Listen to me, you filthy piece of scum. You will never ever lay a hand on Hermione again for as long as I live. If you even breathe the same air as her – I will slit your throat. Understand?"

Franklin's cackle left Hermione's inside's quivery and her blood running cold. She knew in that instant – he would never leave her alone – even from prison. Her eyes locked with Draco's and she saw the realisation in his eyes too. He scrunched up his face in thought for a moment; then he pushed the wand into Franklin's jugular. He had finally lost the thread of sanity which was keeping him on track.

It occurred to her suddenly what he was about to do. Before Hermione could yell out 'stop', Draco had murmured a spell. Franklin went pale with shock then fell prone at his feet.

Hermione scrambled over and took his pulse, praying he was alive. He was. She sank back on her heels, thankful that Draco had managed to subdue him without resorting to violence. When she looked up, she still saw the almost animalistic rage in his face. His dark silver eyes caught hers and they softened slightly.

"Are you okay?" His voice was tense, a small twitch affected his cheek; control was barely his. Hermione smiled on the inside, he was worried about her.

"Fine, Draco. What did you do to Franklin?" She looked back over at Franklin; he appeared to be sleeping whatever it was off.

Draco swept a hand over his face, he looked completely spent. Hermione frowned, waiting for a response. Now he was the one stalling. Then he ran his hand through his hair. _Oh, oh_ – what had he done?

"Honestly, Hermione. I didn't mean to, but he was hurting and threatening you – and it was the only spell I could think of..." His voice trailed off as he gestured hopelessly towards Franklin's snoring body.

"What. Did. You. Do?" Hermione's strung out words veiled her fury – a little.

His silver eyes clashed with hers again. "Obliviate…"

"What! You Obliviated the only man who could clear my name, the master-mind behind this entire fiasco – and you wiped his bloody mind. Seriously, Malfoy, what the hell were you thinking?" Hermione's anger manifested into physical violence, as she stood up and kicked a chair across the room. It clanged loudly against the desk; a small wobbly headed dog waggled its face at her. She was not impressed.

Draco watched her for a second; then he matched her frown. She did not think it looked adorable. He was an idiot. "Look, it was my own spell; I only took out seven years of his memories, enough to clear you - I think."

"Oh – you think, Christ, what a mess. Hang on, your own spell?"

He nodded; then shrugged. "Yeah, I've had a lot of time up my sleeve the last few years."

Hermione glared at him, she seethed on the inside. Of all the barbaric, stupid things he could have done. She was definitely not angry because he had obviously exceeded her limited spell weaving attempts. Shit, he was impressive. Who'd have thought, Hermione Granger would be out done by a bloody Slytherin. It irked her to no end.

"What the hell are we supposed to do now? Shit, Marcus is going to have a field day with this." Her voice contained acid, she didn't care.

Draco finally responded in kind. "If you hadn't allowed that dumb-arse Franklin to have cursed you in the first place, I wouldn't have had to bloody spell him into oblivion. It's on your head, not mine."

Eyes of molten chocolate snapped to his face. "You arrogant son of a bitch, let him…you think I let him…I'm not the one who can't use a bloody wand. Of all the damn spells in the world, you use Obliviate…" She trailed off in disgust.

"Technically, it's not my fault." Draco eyed her, arrogance waiting to spill over.

"What the hell does that mean?" Hermione was at her wits end. After this, could they still put Franklin up at the Tribunal and charge him for crimes against the wizarding community? Would they listen to the evidence, even though the main conspirator couldn't remember what he'd done? She shook her head, she had no idea. Maybe it would work, maybe not. The tribunal was fussy on certain things - _like_ remembering the crimes you've committed.

"It's _your_ wand, you daft bint." Draco held out the wand towards her.

Ignoring his barb she looked up. He was right, her wand sat in his outstretched hand. How did she miss that little detail? She remembered Draco holding up the wand, as well as the Pensive - it must have been in the vault. Which could only mean - Franklin had taken it from Timothy at some stage. What a two-faced arsehole. Hermione was swearing more than usual in her mind, she hoped it didn't spill out into normal conversation. Then she wondered why her swearing could possibly be a concern, right at this point in time.

Looking back at her precious wand, she tried to snatch it from his hand. Draco pulled it away from her at the last minute, like a child's game. She was in no mood for it.

"Not funny, Draco. Give me my bloody wand." Ice flew across the room; he had to have felt it; apparently not if his grin was anything to go by.

"Hell no, you'll hex me inside out. It's much safer in my hands." Draco smirked at her. She snorted, his smirk fell away slowly.

"Yeah, obviously safer, you've done a bang up job so far."

The alarm cut out all of a sudden. Silence, thick and heavy descended on the room; Hermione's ears rang in after-shock. It meant Camille and Marcus should have made it out. Hermione glanced up at the clock, half an hour is all they were given, they had three minutes left. Draco grabbed the Pensive and used _her_ wand to make it small. Stuffing it in his backpack, he strapped it on; then looked up into her fuming eyes.

"What?" He looked at her, completely oblivious to what he'd done wrong. It was typical Malfoy.

Sighing like she would a naughty child, she whispered 'nothing'. "What do we do about him?" She said instead, her head cocking towards Franklins sleeping body.

Within a few minutes they took off down the hallway to the staircase again. Even though her wand worked in the compound, they still could not Apparate. They would have to cross back over on the balcony. Hermione shook her head at what Draco had done to Franklin.

He'd wrapped him to a desk chair, using the phone lines in the office. Then he'd attached a yellow post-it note to his head; 'traitor' scrawled across it in his neat handwriting. Not perfect, eloquent or even useful. It made her smile though, not that she let Draco see. Before he used the phone lines, he'd left Marcus a message telling him where Franklin was being held. Hermione was confident he would be picked up before the morning cleaning crew arrived. Draco had also placed the two guards under a deep sleep - they wouldn't wake for hours yet.

They saw no other guards on their travels, which Hermione was thankful for. She didn't want to confront any other operatives. When they reached the balcony, Malfoy sprung straight out onto the tight line, sliding onto it as if being twenty five stories above the ground was an everyday occurrence. Hermione still hesitated a moment.

Realising he was watching her, she moved onto it. She didn't need him to have any more ammunition against her. They were almost halfway across when the line began to quiver. Hermione flailed and looked back across the gap towards The Firm's balcony. Timothy stood there, his wand pressed against the wire.

"Oh, shit, Draco!" Her panicked scream making him stop and take stock of what was happening.

Hermione was freaking out, their combined weight was almost too much for the line to bear, but Timothy would ensure they fell. Draco stepped off onto the other building and the line tightened up again. She frantically looked back at The Firm; she was almost smack dab in the middle. She had nowhere to go. At least Draco had made it in one piece. He began to throw hexes over the chasm, but they wouldn't hit Timothy due to the wards on the building.

Timothy's low laugh reverberated towards her; she growled and made towards him. _Screw it_; instead of falling, she would hopefully make it back to punch the sneer off of his face.

Surprisingly she saw another figure appear on the balcony. Camille ran straight for Timothy, murder on her face. Hermione almost felt sorry for the large man. Camille's size belied her strength, and she hated Timothy with a passion. He'd broken the infinite trust of working for The Firm, and everyone would be after his blood when he was revealed. She knew her friend would beat the pants off of him, especially when she saw Marcus creeping up on the other side of him. Hermione's relief was short lived though. Timothy saw his new attackers and decided to level the playing field.

He didn't wait for them to reach him. A small spark from his wand snapped the line she was hanging onto, and she suddenly felt herself freefalling.

The rope burned between her hands as she desperately tried to hold on. Thankfully, the other end of the line was still anchored to the second building. It then hit Hermione, that at her speed, she would be lucky to escape with all bones intact. If the strike against the wall didn't kill her – the twenty story drop would.

She was just about to hit, when Draco slid down the rope at a tremendous speed, dislodging her from the rope completely. As they fell straight for the ground, he manoeuvred himself around her and wrapped his lithe body against hers. Hermione only barely managed to contain her screech of fear.

Next minute, she fell onto the softness of a bed – hard. Draco was underneath her and she felt his grunt as her body weight hit his. Draco's arms came up involuntary around her – catching her as if they _had_ just fell twenty floors. She lay there for a moment, her back against his chest; staring at the musty ceiling with its mould mark shaped strangely like Scotland. She'd been here before – it was the hotel room.

"What…?" Her voice was breathless and she spun her head slightly, her cheek resting against Draco's face.

His lips moved once, no sound came out. Then he tried again. "Jesus, Granger – you weigh a tonne."

Red in indignation, she leapt off of him, ignoring his grunt at her shift in weight. "Prick."

He chuckled at her and rolled onto his side, rubbing his stomach. She saw her wand clutched in his hand. They couldn't Apparate on The Firm's ground, but between the buildings – no problem. Hermione let out a breath; then looked back at Draco's face. His eyes were watching her intently. A tuft of fringe fell in his eyes and he absently pushed it away. She blinked slowly. He was flushed from running and adrenaline tore through his veins, leaving him with an air of unspent energy – in other words, he was overwhelmingly gorgeous.

She gulped, not knowing why her panties began to moisten. Hell, why lie – she knew the reason, and it scared the bejesus out of her. She needed to escape him, and the molten looks he was directing at her. Whether he was aware of the effect on her or not, she didn't know – and didn't want to stick around to find out.

He went to say something, but she cut him off. "I'm bloody well not a freaking hippo, you Prat. I'm curvy. Crap, doesn't matter - I'm going to have a shower. Do what you bloody well want." Before he could respond, she stormed off to the bathroom.

She shut the door and looked around. She had to say, for a cheap motel, their bathroom was quiet decadent – old, but well thought out. A huge shower head came from the low roof, not the wall. Yet it was situated in the corner of the room, still allowing you to rest against the wall, which is exactly what Hermione did.

The hot water cascaded over her tight shoulders. She felt the warm embrace her, and she smiled into the water, letting its heat soak her tired body.

'Bloody, Malfoy, he'll be the death of me. He's way too good looking to be legal." She whispered lazily into the stream of water, the sensation of relaxing making her unwind quickly.

Reaching behind her neck, she started slowly kneading the knotted muscles. Suddenly two large warm hands covered hers.

"Let me do that." Malfoy's hot voice whispered against her ear.

Hermione jumped away, trying to cover her nakedness – it was futile, a washcloth was not a moo-moo. "What the bloody hell are you doing in here?" Her voice was not the high pitched squeal she thought it should be; it was low and decidedly husky.

Draco narrowed his eyes; then grinned. Her chest did _not_ flutter at his boyish half smile. "You told me to do what I want. Well, that's what I'm doing. Your words, Granger, not mine."

"I bloody didn't mean for you to follow me in here…" Hermione trailed off as Draco grabbed her shoulders again and spun her around, so her back was against his chest. His fingers dug into the tightness of her shoulders as he massaged her. After a second, she felt her body relax. _Damn traitor._

His fingers deftly danced across her shoulders from spine to blades; then his large hands slid down her arms until they rested on her elbows. He leant in against her, feathering light kisses from the top of her shoulder to the base of her ear. "I think you did. I warned you time and time again, Granger. Don't tempt me."

She couldn't argue, didn't want to. Instead, she found herself relaxing against his chest. His kisses became more insistent as his tongue flicked the back of her ear. She shuddered against him; it was a very sensitive spot. One of his hands trailed back up her arm, until it once again resumed its careful kneading of her neck. Hermione was turning into liquid. The hot water splashed over both of them, making small waterfalls to the tiles below.

Hermione looked down and saw her tight nipples, straining against the water, it's small stinging bites making her almost as wet as the wizard behind her. She could see his large feet spread out behind her, in a stance she knew well. He was in control – she couldn't have been happier.

The other hand which was still stroking her elbow, moved. She watched as it slowly trailed across the flat expanse of her belly, making her stomach tense. Draco chuckled against her neck as he felt her stiffen; it made a fresh spike of arousal flow through her. His calloused hand cupped her aching breast, his thumb pressing against her taut nipple.

Gasping at the contact she had waited forever to feel, he pinched it between thumb and forefinger. Hermione felt wetness slide from her pussy. She was slick with arousal; she craved his touch, his tongue, his cock – his anything. He suckled on her neck while rolling her nipple between his fingers, pinching every few seconds. The pleasure and the sharp spike of pain, fed her desire so much she could hardly form a coherent thought.

Then he pushed his hard cock against her back, she almost passed out at the sensation. It was going to happen – nothing would stop this, she had no get out of jail free card. Draco and her; were finally going to fuck. It sent a delicious thrill through her.

She tried to press her hand against him, but his sharp 'no' stopped her. "This time is for you, Granger."

She shivered as he pressed his prick between her buttocks rubbing up and down – he wouldn't, would he? Hermione knew in an instant she wanted him to. But, instead of the dark thrill he promised, he dropped to his knees behind her. His hands trailed down her sides slowly until they rested on her arse cheeks.

"So, beautiful, so perfectly formed." His words coupled with the kneading, made Hermione's nerve endings tingle. He placed a small amount of pressure on her back, she leant forward slightly so her hands splayed on the walls in-front of her. He nudged her legs further apart. Hermione almost groaned in need – he still hadn't touched her where she craved it the most.

"Oh my fucking god." Hermione called out in the bathroom. Draco had parted her cheeks and placed his tongue against her puckered arsehole. She almost died at the naughtiness of it all. Never had she thought he would go there first. One hand slid through her parted legs and a deft finger stiffly pushed against her clit. She cried out hoarsely as his finger flicked her clit and his tongue delved deeper into her. Before she could shatter in his arms he spun her around.

Disorientated she managed to stay up, until he pushed her back against the cold shower wall. Then she was at his mercy. He grabbed one of her legs and hooked it over his shoulder, pushing it out slightly so she was completely exposed to him. Hermione still felt a blush flush over her face. After where his tongue had just been, it was ludicrous to think she could still be embarrassed. He looked up at her through the tumbling water. His eyes were dark in desire; he licked his lips arrogantly and smirked. Then he buried his head in her soft curls.

His tongue swirled around her taut bud before moving down to her hot hole. He pushed inside and tasted her arousal. His moan of pleasure; made Hermione cry out. She was not going to last long, as much as she tried to hold onto her control, she could feel it slipping from her grasp. He licked noisily back to her clit, and as he began to suckle her tightness, he slipped three fingers straight up her pussy. Arching her back, Hermione yelled into the stream of water. He began to pump them slowly in and out – driving her crazy with need. Merlin, she wanted his cock buried deep within her. Stiffening his tongue, Draco pressed against her nub and flicked tightly. Hermione came all over his face in a hot melting moment of raw animal need.

He continued to stroke her with his tongue gently until she whimpered and went limp. Slipping his fingers from inside her, made Hermione sigh in loss. It had felt beyond anything she could have imagined. Draco's tongue was not all about insults and sneering comments – it had a much more breathtaking use. Hermione's body hummed in pleasure as Draco stood up. Watching him through half hooded eyes; he took a mouthful of shower water and spat it out. Lifting her chin with his finger, he pushed his mouth against hers with an intensity which made her knees buckle. She could still taste herself in his mouth. It was hot. His rigid cock pressed up against her stomach, and she leant into it, relishing the strength of him. When she went to lift a leg so he could sheath himself in her - he stopped her.

"Turn around." His hoarse command; ensured her arousal returned in full force. Merlin, what had he planned?

His hands grasped her hips as his erection pulsed against her backside. She leant forward tipping her pelvis as she did. His cock nudged her arsehole for a second, and she inhaled sharply. She heard his soft chuckle as his fingers traced circles over the small of her back. "Hmm, maybe soon, but not tonight, we need to leave some exploration for next time."

Hermione's stomach clenched with excitement. _Shit_ – doing this again would surely kill her. Before she could think more on his dangerous promise, the head of his cock nudged her slick pussy. He teased her for a second, entering an inch then retracting. Hermione growled and tried to back against him – forcing his entry. He laughed again.

"Hell, if I knew you were this keen…"

"Less talk, Malfoy." Hermione ground out as he entered her fleetingly again for the fifth time. She was ready to scream as her nerve endings reached their limit of sensation.

"I like the way you think." Was the last thing she heard before he grasped both sides of her hips and plunged in with a thrust so forceful, she thought she would break through the wall. He stayed still for a moment, letting her adjust to the size of him. He filled her entirely, it felt way too good. Hermione had no idea if she would ever crave anyone else the way she craved this wizard. There was something about him which screamed 'screw me'…again…and again. She knew he had broken something within her. Only he would satisfy her now. It left an exhilarating feeling in her stomach.

He began to thrust, slowly at first, but then more erratically and forceful as the feelings overtook him. Hermione knew he wouldn't last long, he'd all but said it had been a while. She could feel by his twitchy movements this wondrous feeling was keeping him on a tight leash. She felt the bubble of excitement start in her stomach then slowly spread to all her limbs. She was floating on a cloud of ecstasy and Draco was right there with her.

Her own orgasm was approaching again. She had never come twice in such quick succession, yet she wasn't complaining. It had been a while for her too. The feeling cascaded over her in waves and she twitched around Draco's thrusting cock. Throwing back her head she howled her pleasure. That was all it took for Draco to stiffen up and unload his seed into her. She felt his cock shudder inside of her, as she came about him. Clenching and unclenching him – taking everything he had to offer.

They stayed like that for a while, panting hard; then he slid himself from her. "Unbelievable." His voice was quiet as the water continued to race over them.

Hermione grabbed the loofah and soaped it up, washing Draco's chest softly. She didn't know what this meant – this coupling of sorts. Did it mean he wanted more from her? He did mention next time, or was it whispered in the heat of the moment.

Hermione couldn't help but wonder what next time might entail. If his nudging was any indication - she was in for a new sensation. One she wasn't hesitant to try out. Just thinking about it made her pussy tighten in lust. _No way_ – there was no physical way she could come again that night. Her body thought otherwise. Draco was watching her thoughtfully; then he sensed the change in her demeanour. He knew she wanted him.

He snapped the water off and grabbed her behind the knees; lifting her up over his shoulder. He ignored her protests until he threw her on the bed. She sat up dazed.

"What are you doing, Draco?" Her pussy throbbed with renewed desire from the look in his eyes. How could he do this to her? She was out of control with desire.

He pulled her towards him so her legs hung off the bed, then he spread her legs wide. _No way, again?_ She just looked at him, her eyes hooded. What was it about Malfoy, which sent her on a freaking horny rampage? She'd never come twice in one night, now he was going for the third.

His tongue sent an electric shock straight up her spine. Hermione could have sworn three minutes ago, any form of feeling was completely washed out of her – how wrong she was. Each flick, each lick sent shivers through her over sensitised clit. Draco then delved as deep as he could into her tight little hole. It was like he was trying to find the end of her hot tunnel. He splayed his hands over her hips, his thumbs dangerously close to her heat. They didn't stay immobile for long, they danced over her clit one at a time - creating a rhythm she was sure would send her insane. His snake-like tongue continued its quest deep inside of her. Her body was on fire, starting deep in her stomach and flaring out to encompass her entire body.

Suddenly he was on his knees; she looked down and saw his hard cock bobbing in-front of her hole. He winked and thrust it straight inside of her – no hesitation. It slid in easily, she was open to him – there was no resistance. This time he kept a steady pace, while he looked directly into her eyes. She could see his prick, wet with her juices pounding into her body, each thrust sending tingles through her. He grasped her legs and placed them over his shoulders, giving himself more thrusting power. The angle was electric and she squirmed trying to get more. He held her like that – for an age, until she could tell he was on edge.

"Pinch your nipple for me." His voice was strained, near the precipice.

Hermione slid her hand across the mound of her breast until it reached her puckered nipple. Draco's eyes narrowed and his breathing became shallow. He was barely holding on. Hermione felt something tingling in her pussy as she brushed her fingers delicately over her nipple. An involuntary moan escaped her; she w_as_ going to come again. Even the thought made a strong impact on her quivering body.

"Do it." Malfoy's voice heaved. He was coming.

Pinching hard, harder than she thought she could handle, threw her over. His heat filled her as she cried out loudly in the quiet room. Her orgasm shook the life out of her; she was nothing – just a floating body full of tingly feelings.

As she continued to try and make ends meet and come down from the orgasmic plain, Draco curled up beside her on the bed, pulling her close to him. His arm curved around her body and his leg rested over hers; making her feel safer than she had in her entire lifetime.

They slept.

* * *

**A/N: My work here is done! ;) No, just kidding - one more chapter to go! Really hoped you liked it! Thanks again to the people who have read, alerted, favourited and of course those who have given me awesome, amazing, brilliant and grin inducing reviews!**


	10. Chapter 10

Hermione awoke to a loud tapping at the window; and a large hand curled around her breast. The previous night's behaviour washed over her, and instead of feeling trepidation; she almost growled and threw herself on the exhausted wizard who lay almost unconscious next to her. The tapping increased in volume.

Swearing under her breath – a habit she _hadn't_ picked up from Draco; she rose and padded to the window. Pulling the blinds back made her flinch at first; then wonder when daylight became so small owl looked beseechingly at her. Hermione opened the small clasp on the window, and it gratefully slid inside; landing on the table near the door. It immediately began preening itself. Hermione had nothing to offer it, except left over pizza from the fridge. It turned its nose up at first; then proceeded to take the cheese off when Hermione looked away.

The note was a summons from Marcus; he wanted to meet them as soon as possible at Regent's Park. Draco must have let Marcus know where they were staying at some point for the owl to have found them. She looked over at the still resting blonde in the bed. There was so much she didn't know – so much she wasn't sure she could trust. Yet, she knew she was hopeless when it came to Malfoy. She had always put too much faith in him – why? Who knew; maybe because there was something almost fragile about him. He had been treated roughly as a child, and as a grown man Hermione could still sense that small amount of vulnerability on him. It was almost like her feelings for Harry and Ron; she felt protectiveness over all of them.

Draco rolled over, the sheet slipped down his hips exposing the small line of white blonde hair which trailed lower. Hermione suppressed a groan at the sight. Merlin he was just beautiful, almost too much to look at. No – he was definitely not like Harry or Ron, she'd never craved sex to such a degree with either of those boys.

The sheet slowly tented under her hungry eyes. When she looked up, Draco was watching her closely. Her face blazed. It was too strange – this new feeling; she wasn't quite sure where her head was yet. What exactly were they? With a quick 'Marcus needs us', Hermione fled to the bathroom. She missed Draco's small frown of uncertainty.

Twenty minutes later they stood in the large park, children and young mothers with prams made the place feel friendly and alive. Hermione never found the time to enjoy sitting on a park bench in the sun. Today she still wasn't. She was pacing – waiting for Marcus and Camille. Her mind was tight with questions – she shot a look at Draco and the question she was about to ask died on her lips.

Draco had sprawled himself out on the bench, feet wide in-front of him and his arms resting along the back. His head was thrown back, making his blonde hair hang and swing in the gentle breeze. His eyes rested shut and the sun haloed his blonde head, making him look angelic. She smiled wryly – he was anything but angelic if the last night was any indication. She felt herself flush from her toes to the tips of her ears. No – Malfoy made her feel heavenly, yet he was as sinfully sexy as any devil.

"It's rude to stare."

Hermione started at his words, _crap,_ she was once again astounded at how he could sense what she was doing. "I was looking behind you."

She watched as he tilted his head back further and opened his eyes. She almost palmed her face, there was a rather large dog – doing a rather large…didn't matter. Draco's low chuckle reached straight inside of her and made her heart feel all twitchy.

"Hmmm, you are a horrible liar, Granger." He opened one eye again and looked at her. Then he saw the set of her face. "Go on then, ask me; ask me anything. I know you're dying to. I can answer anything now Marcus has removed the vow."

Catching her breath, she quickly flicked through all the questions she needed to ask. They were all important in their own way. But after everything, there was only one she truly wanted an answer to.

"Was it easy to deceive me – to lie to me?" Her voice caught a little in the wind, and it made her quiet question seem almost a whisper.

Draco sat up straight and looked almost through her; he was that intense. His eyes never wavered from her face. Hermione had never seen this expression of his – ever, it was similar to apprehension. Was he worried she wouldn't believe him? "No. It was the hardest thing I've ever been asked to do. Hermione, if I had the chance to choose everything again – I would change that part of my mission. Deceiving you is not something I could ever do again."

She could only nod at the honesty in his voice. It was enough for her – the other questions could wait. A weight she hadn't realised she was carrying lifted.

Looking around the green parkland she caught sight of Marcus and Camille striding down a path towards them. Her relief was tremendous at seeing Cam unharmed once again. She felt wretched for not finding out what exactly happened to the both of them the night before. She was otherwise occupied in the end, and forgot all about the outside world. Hermione's face felt hot all of a sudden. Marcus greeted Draco, and Hermione grabbed Camille's arm.

"What happened with Timothy?" She blurted out before hellos could be exchanged.

"Morning, Hermione. My, don't you look sated…I mean well rested." Camille's smirk rivalled anything Draco could pull out at the moment. Hermione wanted to stick her head in the fountain and die of embarrassment. Cam had the uncanny knack of being able to tell exactly when Hermione had just had sex. It was unnerving to say the least. Camille laughed in her tinkling voice. "The boys aren't listening. I'm just bloody jealous; it feels like forever for me."

"Not the time" Hermione sing-songed.

"Alright, keep your knickers on." This remarked earned Camille another glare. She just grinned in response. "Well, after Timothy snapped your line, Marcus stunned him from behind – and I may, or may not have kicked him in the face. I hope Azkaban has a good dental plan." Camille's lips curled up in an evil smile. "He deserves everything coming to him, after what he did to the both of us."

Hermione walked over and gave her a tight quick hug. "Honey, you more than me – I only suffered at his hands for a few hours, you were at the Manor for days."

Camille looked away, masking her eyes; Hermione knew the look – ask later. She wasn't ready to talk about her time there yet. Hermione couldn't blame her. Tugging Camille's arm playfully they made their way over to the men. Hermione immediately interrupted their conversation which sounded suspiciously Quidditch related.

"Malfoy grabbed the Pensive – what happened to Franklin?"

Marcus looked at Hermione and smiled slightly. "Who left the post-it note?"

"Who do you think, Marcus?" He laughed at the dryness in her voice.

"You're right, it was obvious. I didn't think you were the type to have fun like that." Marcus smiled at her frown. "Well, Franklin's involvement with Shade has come to light – stupid bastard was cocky and left enough evidence in his office to incriminate himself thirty times over. Strangely enough, for some reason - he mysteriously can't remember the last seven years. Do either of you know anything about that?"

Hermione and Draco pointedly did not look at each other. "No idea, Marcus – maybe he tripped and struck his head." It sounded lame to Hermione's own ears; they didn't even come up with an excuse in-case asked about it. _Bloody distracting Malfoy._

Marcus's returning grin told her; he knew the truth already. He was as infuriating as Malfoy with his mind games. Then Hermione realised they didn't even bother to look for evidence against her in Franklin's office – they got the Pensive, nothing else. How could she have been so blind-sided as to forget her own problem? If they found so much evidence in Franklin's office – was she also on the proverbial chopping block now?

"What else did they find?" Her voice trembled a little, and she coughed to get rid of it.

Marcus's eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled broadly. "You see, Granger. The strangest thing happened. All of Franklin's documents mentioned a second person working for him – yet, the name had been removed from every document. It was almost like it had been magically erased. And since Franklin has no recollection of recruiting anyone – I'd say you're in the clear."

An involuntary squeal left her, making both men wince. Camille grabbed her in a bear-hug which left Hermione breathless. Grinning widely, she felt elation swift and strong fill her. She couldn't believe it had been taken care of so simply. She was free; she was no longer an unwitting traitor. She would never underestimate anyone's power over her again. This led her eyes to Draco. He was once again sitting back comfortably, smirking at her. He winked. Did he have something to do with her newly found freedom?

For some reason she knew – knew he was the one to have cleared her name from all documents. How she came to this conclusion – she wasn't sure. But, it just _felt_ right. A sentiment she couldn't describe filled her, it was almost like contentment. _No way_ – Draco could never make her feel that. Strung out, horny as hell, but never content. Although…strange things had been afoot.

"What was Shade's involvement – and who are they? Was it actually Shade who wanted the two memories Franklin was trying to retrieve?" Camille's question brought Hermione out of her musings on whether Draco looked sexier in the black, or the white t-shirt he now wore.

"That's the million dollar question, and the reason for this meeting. I have news for you. Good and, well not bad, but interesting news." Marcus spread his hands out in-front of him, trying to explain with more than just words.

Hermione thought it didn't sound too promising; she honestly didn't need any more bad _or_ interesting news. She was intrigued though as to whom Shade was, and why her pilfering was invaluable to them. Franklin's words came back, that they would not be happy with her.

"I was promoted this morning – by the Minister." Marcus left it hanging in the air for a moment. "I'm taking over Franklin's job effective immediately – I'll be overseeing the operatives and handling all missions. The minister thought it prudent that this fallout have minimal impact on the workings of The Firm. Apparently they had been looking for a suitable position for me for some time." Hermione felt a genuine smile spread over her face, he deserved it. He'd been with the company for years and she couldn't think of a more capable boss. He would make sure The Firm flourished and became a proper spy network again. "So as your boss, this means the three of you have a big choice to make."

"What? Whether we should get a coffee machine in the staff room or free biscuits for morning tea instead?" Draco's derisive drawl made Hermione smile.

Marcus chuckled. "Not exactly – I'm going to be reassigning you – for a top secret operation."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "No secrets Marcus, if you want me to work for you – I refuse to do it unless I get full disclosure."

"Seconded." Camille said in quick succession.

They all looked at Draco. He shrugged then lifted his mouth in a half smile. _Shit_ – would she ever think it wasn't utterly sexy? "What? I knew exactly what was happening all along in the last mission."

Hermione threw him a dirty look, _smug arsehole_.

"I want the three of you to become a team. A highly _elite_ undercover team." Marcus smiled secretly at them.

"Undercover – to what end? Is this the interesting news?" Hermione was ready to throw something at Marcus; he was being decidedly unhelpful and secretive. Yet, so far his proposition intrigued her. She'd never worked in a team before – the idea was fascinating. And working with both Camille and Draco, well – there would never be a dull moment.

"I'm sending you three in, to infiltrate and take down Shade – from the inside."

* * *

_**Three Weeks Later:**_

Hermione had found herself in many compromising positions in her life. But, if she told the truth, she had never enjoyed it as much as she did at this very moment in time.

Lying underneath an extremely sweaty and exhausted Draco Malfoy until recently, was not on the top of her to-do list. Hermione mused it was interesting how things could change in the blink of an eye. She stared up into Draco's grey eyes which drooped in tiredness. The sight of him so unguarded, made her stomach all quivery and strange.

"Are you close yet Draco?" Her voice was strained; since his entire body weight rested on her. Not that she would usually mind the predicament, but they had been at it for over three hours, and it was beginning to wear thin.

"Hmmmm" Was all the response Hermione garnered from the blonde. He was concentrating so hard; he was in his own little 'Draco' world. Bucking her hips in annoyance, she tried to get his attention.

"Oi - cut it, Granger. I'm almost there." His irritated voice made her glare and she wished like anything in the world she could get physical with him. Yep, smack him right on his faultless face. But she couldn't. Though it was not from some misguided sense of proprietary; her hands were just stuck firmly by her sides.

"It was your bloody idea to get us both into this situation. I was fine doing it myself, but you _had_ to join in." Hermione huffed again, just as Draco groaned. The now familiar noise sent waves of lust straight through her. Her nerve endings tingled in anticipation. Never had she been so responsive to another human being. Hermione almost forgot why she was incensed to begin with. It was a habit she had to break – and soon. If Draco knew he was getting under her skin, he would exploit it to the nth degree. And that was something she couldn't handle - a smug, arrogant and _always_ right Malfoy.

"I'm almost there." Hermione looked up at his face pinched in concentration, and for some ungodly reason she leant up and kissed the corner of his mouth. He stilled in surprise. Her heart sped up. Then his eyes met hers, and he smirked down at her.

"I have told you again and again how irresistible I am, but you continue to deny it. So if I'm not, why did you kiss me?" His smug voice was amplified by his position on top of her. Merlin he was breathtaking - and she was turning into a soppy loon.

How did she tell him he was irresistibly gorgeous; _and_ retain her dignity? Hermione was saved from answering his sticky question when a large clump of dirt fell against her head. He grunted and groaned some more as he jerked around; dirt flying everywhere. Hermione felt the familiar niggle of arousal as he jostled around on her. Draco was completely oblivious, his mind on his task and nothing else.

"I'll pull out first, Okay?"

Hermione ignored the sexual connotations that phrase could mean and nodded. Her eyes were watching him place the box into the small groove they had dug out. They had spent two days digging a hole big enough for this task. It was the perfect place to hide the last memory file. It was a magical dead zone in the middle of a forest near The Blue Mountains in Australia. No one in the world could find the file now – only Hermione and Draco knew where it was. Camille and Marcus were tasked with hiding the other file, and the Pensive was shattered.

They had tried every means possible to destroy the files – they were imperious to everything – they literally could not be decimated. So in the end, Marcus made the decision to hide them somewhere in the world where no-one could ever find them. They had dug into the side of a hill by hand and Hermione had reached her tolerance limit. If she had to hear about Draco's ruined fingernails and blistered hands one more time, she would throttle him.

Hermione was the one who was supposed to hide the box and she had it all under control. That was until Malfoy stuck his head in and hollered down the passage at her. Obviously mishearing her reply, she found Malfoy slithering up her body until they were eye to eye. It ended up a good thing too. Malfoy had the muscles to push it into position properly; between tree roots so it was tightly entwined. Hermione also had to listen to him gloat about having more strength than her. She felt like her face had a permanent scowl – and he knew he was the cause, which of course meant he tried harder to annoy her.

Hermione watched the top of Malfoys blonde head as he slinked down her body. When he reached her waistband he looked up and caught her eye. Winking saucily at her, he kissed the junction between her legs. Even through her pants the heat hit instantly. Merlin, he was infuriating. She breathed in deeply, reigning in her errant hormones. He would kill her with erotic thoughts. Her mind was full of them when he was around. Hermione even wondered if it were possible – _death by arousal_.

It took them three hours to re-fill just over half of the tunnel. It was enough so no-one would stumble upon it. Then it took another four hours to hike out of the dead zone. Once they reached the border where magic and nothing met, they managed to Apparate to their hotel room on Sydney Harbour. Both of them were grimy and exhausted and after a quick shower they fell onto the bed and slept soundly.

Hermione awoke to a loud rumbling noise hours later. Bleary eyed she sat up and looked around the huge bedroom; Draco was nowhere to be seen. It was three in the morning.

"Merlin, our body-clocks are completely screwed." She yawned into the dim room. Standing up unsteadily, she stumbled to the left in tiredness. The noise she ascertained was coming from the bathroom.

As she made her way over, Hermione stopped and took time to appreciate the spectacular view their hotel room afforded them. Sydney Harbour was lit up like Christmas. She squinted down and could make out small clubs and restaurants still bustling with tourists and party goers. Her gaze shifted from the steady throng of people, out onto the harbour itself. What she really enjoyed, was watching the boats floating serenely on the water. Her goal was to one day hire a yacht and cruise the Greek Islands. She smiled – wondering if Draco would go with her. They now had a week off, before taking on their new assignment to infiltrate Shade. Maybe she should mention it. Smiling to herself she knew he wouldn't say no. For some reason – he had difficulty with that word while she was around. It made her giddy.

Hermione slowly opened the bathroom door and slid it shut behind her with a small click. Draco lounged in the huge bathtub which was situated in the middle of the room – he'd put the spa on and the bubbles rose around him. His head was thrown back on the side of the tub and his eyes were closed. He looked contented – so different from the hassled Draco of a month ago.

"I've told you before – it's rude to stare." He was looking at her cheekily – one eye slitted open.

Hermione grinned and dropped her bathrobe. Suddenly Draco's hungry eyes were for her – and her alone. She saw his quick intake of breath as he raked her naked body with his gaze. She loved the feelings he could induce in her – with only a look. She had never felt so shamelessly wanton and sexy. This new side suited her well.

"Draco, hasn't anyone told you it's rude to stare?"

He growled at her and jumped from the tub. His cock was already standing on end as he picked her up and threw her in its warmth. Her squeal was halted as she went under the water. Laughing, she bobbed back up, but as she wiped the bubbles from her face – Draco was already on her like a tiger.

He pushed her back against the cool rim, and pressed his mouth against hers in a knee trembling kiss. His tongue gently teased in and out, promising more naughtiness with its quick flicks. One of his hands splayed over her hip; while the other held her head tenderly. Before she could take in another breath he had pulled her towards him; until he was seated and she was straddling him.

The position lifted her out of the water slightly and her breasts became exposed to the cool air. Her nipples hardened into tight buds at the contrast of heat and coolness. Malfoy's hungry mouth found one small nub and began to suck and bite lightly. Hermione moaned, Merlin she was a lost soul without Draco's attention. This thought should have scared her – but it didn't. She would take what she could from him, no pressure. Although it was plainly obvious, neither of them had any intentions of going anywhere.

Hermione lowered herself so she could grind her heat along the length of him. Her pussy was slick with arousal and he slid easily. She pulled away with a small giggle each time he tried to penetrate her. She loved to tease him. He growled and bit her neck lightly – Hermione gasped in pleasure. He trailed little nips down her collarbone until he reached the soft mound of her breast again. He caught a nipple between his teeth and pinched. Hermione called out in sweet agony. She was beginning to realise that pain and pleasure were very tightly entwined – and she liked to get a little hurt. His fingers curled into her hips forcefully and she let out another satisfied moan.

Before she formed another thought, his teasing fingers found her heat. Sliding in two fingers he tested her tightness. He really didn't need to – she was slick and more than ready for him. He began to pump his fingers while using his thumb on her clit. The bathwater, soap and her arousal was making it hard for Draco to get a steady rhythm. Yet Hermione enjoyed the spasmodic pleasure shooting through her almost as much as a build-up.

Looking down into his eyes, she leaned in and caught his bottom lip between her teeth and kissed him deeply. Hermione moved slightly and removed Draco's hand – even though he was slowly getting her to a euphoric state. Then she pushed herself onto his hard cock – sliding down until he was fully sheathed in her pussy. He groaned and threw his head back. Hermione leant forward and licked his collarbone – he shuddered within her and growled in lust. So she did it again.

Leaning back, Hermione kept the pace nice and easy – Draco looked up at her and they held each others gazes. It had almost become a game to them; trying to get the other to look away first. So far – no-one had lost, well not really. They both always came. She felt him trembling deep inside of her, and before she could change her rhythm, he had pushed her back across the spa – still embedded deep within her.

He began to thrust deeply and roughly. She adored when he took control – then almost lost it. He slammed into her with the ferociousness which stole her breath. Hermione hooked a leg over his hip, opening herself even more to his pounding. It tore a small gasp from her throat each and every time he pushed deeply into her. His cock was perfect – beyond perfect even. Hermione counted herself as the luckiest witch in all of England, and the world too - if she knew it wouldn't give Draco a big head.

Her small moans of satisfaction and the spa jets egged them both into orgasm. Draco bit her neck again as he bellowed out loudly and spilled into her – she seconds behind – her clit throbbing with desire.

Panting he stayed on-top of her a moment, just catching his breath. When he regained it, he grabbed her and floated them back to the seat. He placed her on his lap and Hermione sat contentedly. Lifting an arm out of the water she weaved it around Draco's neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Sighing, she slid deeper into the water and shut her eyes; resting her temple on Draco's shoulder. He rubbed her back in lazy strokes which made her sleepy; Hermione never wanted to move again. Looking back up into his smiling grey eyes, she squinted. He raised an eyebrow in question.

"Draco – you know I hate you – don't you?"

His face split into a grin a mile wide, she matched it with one of her own. As his lips met hers in a soft gentle kiss he whispered,

"And I you, Granger."

End.

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**A/N: Well, there you have it - really hoped you liked the way things came together. I honestly had such an amazing time writing this - and also interacting with some of you as well! Was a great experience! What shall I do with my spare time now? I'm going to feel a little lost...I may just have to write another story! So a ridiculously huge thank-you goes out to all who took the time to read this, alerted, favourited and once again of course to you amazing beautiful people who reviewed for me! (seriously without your kind words, support and wickedness - this wouldn't have been nearly as much fun!) Until next time - stay classy! :D**


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